^K  a%  »xv^8i^ 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF. CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 

MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


<y 


ROB  AND  HIS  GUN 


BY 

WILLIAM   ALEXANDER   LINN 

ILLUSTRATED 


NEW   YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

1902 


COFTRISHT,  1902,   BT 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published,  September,  1902 


TSOW  OIHECTOHY 

PRINTINS  AND  BOOKifNOING  COMMNY 

NEW  YORK 


PREFACE 


THE  author  hopes  that  this  book  will  be  found 
by  its  young  readers  both  interesting  and 
instructive.  Its  object  is  to  introduce  them  to  some 
of  the  pleasures  of  country  life,  and  to  give  them 
practical  hints  of  the  methods  by  which  they  may 
become  expert  with  the  gim  and  rifle,  make  them 
acquainted  with  game  of  different  kinds  and  the 
manner  of  hunting  it,  and  at  the  same  time  point 
out  to  them  the  difference  between  the  pleasure  of  a 
true  sportsman  and  the  taking  of  life  for  the  mere 
sake  of  killing. 

It  may  add  to  the  interest  in  Rob's  experiences  to 
know  that  the  naiTative  is  a  description  of  actual 
hunting  expeditions  of  the  author,  and  that  the  in- 
cidents related  and  the  persons  described  have  come 
mider  his  personal  observation. 


iw31 2^2'3 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER   I 

PAGE 

Cousin  Dave's  Visit  to  the  City 1 

Meeting  with  Rob  in  Madison  Square — Discussion  of 
the  Boy's  Future— Boyhood  Memories  Recalled — The 
Story  of  the  Capture  of  a  Big  Rabbit— Some  Ques- 
tions and  Answers. 


CHAPTER   n 

Learning  about  Things 14 

Rob's  First  Morning  at  the  Farm — Introduction  to 
the  Dogs — Pointers  and  Setters — Something  about 
Dog-Training— Trying  for  a  Point — Rob's  First  Sight 
of  a  Rabbit — Bird-Lore. 

CHAPTER    HI 

A  First  Lesson  in  Shooting 24 

Advantages  of  Modern  Appliances — Fitting  Rob  with 
a  Gun— A  Clay-Pigeon  Trap  and  its  Use — Some 
Things  a  True  Sportsman  Should  Remember — Rob's 
Introduction  to  Wing-Shooting^Its  Primary  Diffi- 
culties—A Hit  at  Last— A  Present  of  a  Dog — Hints 
about  Handling  Bird-Dogs. 

[vii] 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER   IV 

PAGE 

A  September  Walk 36 

Lessons  in  Farm- Work — An  Interesting  Experience 
with  a  Woodcock — How  it  Tried  to  Protect  its  Young 
— Summer  and  Fall  Shooting  Compared — Looking 
for  Quail  with  the  Dogs — Flushing  a  Partridge — Put- 
ting Rob  to  a  Test — Trailing  and  Winding — A  Talk 
about  Ruffed  Grouse  and  a  Sight  of  One  on  the 
Ground. 


CHAPTER  V 

Rob's  First  Day's  Hunt 53 

A  Find  of  Quail — Necessity  of  Picking  out  One's 
Bird— A  Double  Miss— Better  Work  Next  Time- 
Sport  with  Fall  Woodcock— Rob  Gets  a  Rabbit— A 
Lost  Flock  of  Quail — More  Woodcock,  and  a  Beauti- 
ful Exhibition  by  Tass — One  of  Cousin  Dave's  Recol- 
lections— Trying  for  Partridges — A  Good  Retrieve — 
Something  about  Aiming. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Shooting  Bay-Snipe    ,     » 73 

Varieties  and  Habits  of  the  Birds — An  Early  Break- 
fast and  a  Sail— The  Blind  and  Stools— The  Art  of 
Whistling— A  First  Shot  and  Others  after  it— Whist- 
ling under  Difficulties — Willets  and  Sickle-Bills. 

[  vi"  ] 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    VII 

PAGE 

A  Trip  to  the  Adiroxdacks 92 

Welcome  at  the  Home-Camp — Its  Comfort  and  Equip- 
ment— Off  for  a  Deer-Hunt — Crossing  a  Carry — A 
Row  down  Raquette  River — Making  a  Camp  in  the 
Woods — The  First  Day's  Hunt  and  its  Disappoint- 
ment— A  Capture  of  Ducks — How  Rob  Got  his  First 
Deer — A  Day's  Tramp  in  the  Woods — Seeing  a  Bear 
— An  Exhibition  of  Partridges — A  Deer  in  the  Dis- 
tance. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

Duck-Shooting  on  Barnegat  Bay 117 

Jesse  and  His  Yacht — Living  in  Close  Quarters — The 
Sneak-Box  and  its  Uses — Jesse  as  a  Cook — Hiding 
in  the  Open  Bay — Putting  out  the  Decoys — A  Shot 
at  Broad-Bills  —  Rob's  Good  Marksmanship  —  Cousin 
Dave's  Goose  Story — A  Poor  Day  for  Ducks,  but 
Some  Good  Luck  with  Brant. 


CHAPTER   IX 

Quail-Shooting  in  North  Carolina       .     .     .     .144 

An  Introduction  to  Mose — What  an  Early  Start  Means 
in  the  South — Good  Work  of  the  Dogs — Beginning  of 
a  Fine  Bag — Lunching  on  Persimmons — Mose  as  a 
Preacher — Joe's  Long  Point — A  Lucky  Find. 

[ix] 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  X 

PAGE 

In  the  Canada  Bush l60 

A  Tiresome  Trip  and  Some  Poor  Quarters — A  Long 
Wait  for  a  Team — Accommodations  in  the  Bush,  with 
a  Dinner  of  Salt  Pork — A  Beautiful  View  of  Deer 
that  was  also  an  Aggravation — Venison  at  Last — A 
StiU  Hunt  in  the  Snow — How  Rob  Killed  a  Doe — 
After  a  Big  Buck — Rob's  Shot  from  an  Island — 
Antlers  to  be  Proud  of. 


CHAPTER  XI 

Wild-Goose  Shooting  in  Dakota 189 

Rob's  First  View  of  the  Prairie — A  Hunting  Outfit 
on  the  Plains — A  Night  in  the  Open,  with  Some 
Nasal  Music — About  Goose  Pits  and  Decoys— A 
Morning  Disappointment  but  a  Big  Afternoon's 
Sport — Attractions  and  Excitements  of  Goose- 
Shooting— How  Mr.  Aileen  Escaped  from  a  Bear — 
A  Shot  at  Prairie-Chickens. 


[X] 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PACiNa 
PAes 


Dogs   Pointing   Quail FrorUispiece 

Cousin  Dave's   Farm 14 

Woodcock  —  RufFed  Grouse  —  Quail       ....  38 

Bay-Snipe  Shooting 80 

Home  Camp  in  the   Adirondacks 94 

Duck-Shooting  on  Barnegat  Bay 132 

Cap  Delivering  a  Retrieved  Quail 158 

Shooting  Wild  Geese  in  Dakota 200 


[xi] 


ROB   AND   HIS   GUN 

CHAPTER  I 

COUSIN  DAVE'S  VISIT  TO  THE  CITY 

ON  one  of  those  bright  afternoons  in  the  latter 
part  of  March  which  give  New  Yorkers  a 
foretaste  of  the  real  spring  which  is  approaching, 
there  might  have  been  noticed  among  the  persons 
who  were  sauntering  through  Madison  Square  a  tall 
and  well-built  man,  whose  tanned  face  and  general 
appearance  would  class  him  as  a  visitor  from  the 
country.  He  seemed  interested  in  the  occupants  of 
the  benches,  in  the  children  who  were  exercising  on 
their  roller  skates,  and  in  the  men  who  were  at  work 
in  the  park.  Before  two  of  these  who  were  putting 
one  of  the  beds  in  order  he  stopped,  and  watched 
their  labors  with  an  attention  that  might  have  been 
interpreted  as  indicating  some  knowledge  of  his  own 
on  the  subject  of  flower-gardening,  and  a  willing- 
ness to  learn  more.  While  thus  occupied,  one  of 
[1] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

the  older  lads  on  skates  glided  up  to  him,  and, 
grasping  him  by  the  arm,  said,  in  a  tone  of 
pleased  surprise, 

"  AVhy,  Cousin  Dave  ! " 

The  man  so  addressed  replied,  "  Why,  Cousin 
Rob." 

"  What  are  you  doing  in  Madison  Square  ? " 
asked  the  boy.  "Are  you  going  to  make  us  a 
visit  ?  " 

"  Some  business  brought  me  to  the  city,  and  I 
did  think  I  would  spend  the  night  with  you  if  it  is 
convenient." 

"  Convenient,"  exclaimed  the  boy  ;  "  of  course  it 
will  be  convenient,  and  papa  will  be  delighted  to 
see  you." 

"All  right,"  said  Cousin  Dave;  "finish  your 
skating,  and  I  will  go  to  the  house  with  you." 

"  I  have  skated  enough,"  said  Rob.  "  We  will 
go  at  once.     Shall  we  walk  ?  " 

"  By  all  means ;  I  am  a  countryman,  you  know, 
and  the  city  sights  are  a  novelty  to  me." 

So  they  walked  up  Fifth  Avenue  together,  the 
boy  pointing  out  the  well-known  houses  to  his 
cousin,  and  the  man  enjoying  the  sight  of  the  pedes- 
[2] 


COUSIN   Dave's    visit   to   the   city 

trians  on  the  sidewalk,  the  vehicles  and  fine  horses 
on  the  roadway,  and  the  buildings  that  lined  it.  A 
short  distance  below  Central  Park  they  turned  into 
a  side  street  and  were  soon  at  RoVs  home. 

Now,  a  word  of  introduction  to  these  people  whom 
Ave  have  met,  and  with  whom  we  are  to  become  bet- 
ter acquainted.  Cousin  Dave  was  David  Warren, 
and  Rob  was  Robert  Edsall.  Mr.  Warren  was  a 
cousin  also  of  Rob's  father,  Thomas  Edsall,  and 
therefore  a  second  cousin  to  Rob.  Thomas  and 
David  had  been  boys,  and  country  boys,  together. 
Living  on  adjoining  farms,  they  had  attended  the 
same  school  and  enjoyed  the  same  sports,  until  they 
had  become  young  men.  Then  Thomas  entered  a 
counting-room  in  the  city,  and  became  a  successful 
man  of  business.  He  found  that  this  success  in  it- 
self made  groAnng  demands  on  his  time,  and  for 
many  years  he  had  not  had  an  opportunity  to  reA-isit 
the  old  countiy  region  wherein  his  boyhood  had 
been  passed.  But  its  memory  had  not  failed  him, 
and  the  occasional  visits  of  his  Cousin  David  to  the 
city  had  afforded  him  opportunity  to  live  over  again, 
in  their  conversations,  the  boy's  experiences  that  he 
had  enjoyed  so  well. 

[8] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

No  announcement,  therefore,  could  have  given 
him  greater  pleasure  than  Rob's  greeting,  when  he 
came  home  that  evening,  "  O,  papa,  who  do  you 
think  is  here  ?     Cousin  Dave." 

One  of  the  old-time  talks,  of  course,  occupied  the 
evening,  and  in  the  course  of  it  Rob  became  the 
subject  of  discussion. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  make  of  your  boy  ? " 
asked  David. 

"  That  is  a  matter  that  I  have  tried  to  keep  in 
the  background,"  replied  his  father.  "  Rob  is  a 
good  student,  and  I  think  a  bright  one.  I  have  a 
theory  that  the  most  important  thing  to  discover,  in 
deciding  a  boy's  career,  is  what  he  wants  to  be.  I 
think  it  is  Ruskin  who  holds  to  the  doctrine  that  a 
man  who  can  succeed  in  one  walk  of  life  can  in  any 
other.  I  would  not  go  quite  so  far  as  that,  but  I 
do  concede  the  folly  of  trying  to  drive  a  boy  into 
some  occupation  for  which  he  has  a  distaste." 

"  Is  the  boy  rugged  ? "  queried  David.  "  It 
seemed  to  me  that  he  had  a  delicate  look,  but  my 
country  eye  may  not  be  the  best  judge  of  a  city 
constitution." 

"I  would  not  call  him  delicate,  but  he  has  his 
[4] 


COUSIN   Dave's    visit  to  the   city 

mother's  constitution,  not  mine,  and  he  has  not  had 
the  benefit  of  that  country  life  which  did  so  much 
toward  giving  me  the  strength  to  do  what  I  have 
since  done.  In  fact,  Rob  knows  very  Httle  about 
the  country.  He  was  born  here,  has  been  educated 
here,  and  his  vacations  have  been  spent  with  his 
mother  at  Newport,  where  I  do  not  think  the  real 
life  of  the  country  exists." 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  would  do  with  that  boy  if 
he  were  mine  ?  "  asked  David. 

"  No,"  said  his  father,  "  but  I  am  interested  to 
hear." 

"  I  would  send  him  to  the  country  to  live  with 
his  Cousin  Dave  till  he  got  tired  of  the  life." 

"  But  his  studies,  Dave  !  He  is  almost  prepared 
for  college,  and  to  send  him  to  the  covmtry  now 
would  be  to  put  him  back  indefinitely." 

"  If  you  are  going  to  make  a  college-man  and  a 
professional  man  of  him,  my  advice  would  be  unwise. 
But  I  would  not  make  such  a  future  for  him.  I 
judge  horses  and  dogs  a  good  deal  by  inspiration, 
and  I  apply  the  same  test  sometimes  to  men  and 
boys.  And  if  I  am  any  judge  of  Rob,  he  has  in 
him  a  liking  for  things  rural  that  would  require  very 
[5] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

little  cultivation  for  full  development.  A  good  deal 
is  said,  and  said  truly,  about  the  damage  to  agricult- 
ure that  is  done  by  the  drift  of  the  best  of  the 
farmers'  boys  to  the  towns  and  cities.  Why  should 
not  some  of  this  damage  be  offset  by  taking  some  of 
the  bright  city  boys  to  the  country,  inculcating 
in  them  a  love  for  country  life  and  activities,  and 
giving  agriculture  the  benefit  of  their  intelli- 
gence ?  " 

"  Do  you  seriously  propose  to  me  to  make  Rob  a 
farmer  ?  " 

"  Well,  ril  tell  you  candidly,  Tom,  I  don't  think 
Rob  is  a  very  strongly  built  lad,  and  if  he  does  need 
a  tonic  there  is  none  that  will  do  him  the  good  that 
will  come  from  farm  life  and  farm  air.  At  any  rate, 
think  over  the  idea  of  sending  him  to  me  for  his 
summer  vacation.  If  he  does  not  get  too  homesick, 
and  likes  the  occupations  I  shall  plan  for  him,  it  will 
be  time  enough  to  discuss  something  more  perma- 
nent." 

Mrs.  Edsall  joined  them  at  this  time,  and  the 

subject  was  discussed  further  by  the  three.      Neither 

parent  showed  a  great  inclination  toward  the  idea  of 

making  the  boy  a  farmer,  but  both  did  accept  the 

[6] 


COUSIN   Dave's    visit   to   the   city 

invitation    for  the  vacation,  and  there  the  matter 
rested  for  the  night. 

To  Mr.  Warren  Rob  did  look  actually  delicate, 
and,  having  taken  a  hking  to  him  in  his  former  visits, 
he  felt  a  great  desire  to  give  the  boy  the  benefit  of 
that  country  tonic  in  which  he  had  so  much  faith. 
Accordingly,  at  the  break  fast- table  the  next  morn- 
ing, he  turned  the  conversation  in  a  direction  which 
would  enable  him  to  form  some  idea  of  his  younger 
cousin's  tastes. 

"Tom,"  he  remarked,  "do  you  ever  hunt  any 
more  ? "" 

"  Hunt  ?  "  was  the  reply.  "  I  have  not  shot  off  a 
gun  in  twenty  years." 

"  And  yet  you  used  to  like  it  as  much  as  I  did." 

"  Like  it  ?  I  like  it  yet,  but  I  have  no  time,  or 
perhaps  I  ought  to  say  no  opportunity." 

"  Well,  rd  take  time,"  continued  David,  "  and 
you  know  a  real  sportsman  must  find  his  opportunity." 

"  Why,  papa,"  Rob  queried,  "  did  you  ever  hunt 
with  a  gun  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  his  father  replied,  "  with  a  gun,  when  I 
could  get  one,  and  before  that  with  a  bow  and  aiTow, 
or  an  old  pistol." 

[7] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

Cousin  Dave  began  to  laugh.  "Do  you  remem- 
ber, Tom,  the  day  we  got  the  big  rabbit  out  of 
Farmer  Martin's  stone  fence  ?  " 

"  As  if  it  was  yesterday." 

"  O,  Cousin  Dave,  do  tell  me  about  it ! "  exclaimed 
Rob. 

David  looked  significantly  toward  his  elder  cousin, 
indicating  his  acceptance  of  the  boy's  interest  in  the 
subject  as  evidence  of  the  correctness  of  his  surmise 
about  the  boy's  tastes,  and  said  : 

"  Boys  begin  to  track  rabbits  long  before  they  can 
hope  to  shoot  birds " 

"  How  can  they  track  rabbits,  and  why  can  they 
not  shoot  birds  at  the  same  time  ?  "  interrupted  Rob. 

"  As  to  the  rabbits,  boys  can  track  them  because 
a  rabbit  makes  a  track  that  is  different  from  the 
track  of  any  other  of  the  wild  animals,  like  this" 
— and  he  made  a  sketch  of  a  rabbit's  track  on  the 
cloth  with  the  handle  of  his  knife — two  dots,  side  by 
side,  and  two  at  right  angles  to  them  in  the  rear. 
"  When  a  country  boy  sees  this  track  in  the  snow 
he  knows  that  only  a  rabbit  has  made  it,  and  the 
two  hind  tracks  act  as  a  guide  to  the  direction  which 
the  rabbit  has  taken.  As  to  your  other  question, 
[8] 


COUSIN     DAVE   S      VISIT    TO    THE     CITY 

boys  shoot,  or  catch,  rabbits  before  they  can  shoot 
birds,  because  the  true  sportsman  shoots  only  game- 
birds,  and  only  shoots  these  on  the  wing,  and  it  re- 
quires long  practice  to  be  what  is  called  a  '  wing 
shot/  Now  for  my  story.  One  morning,  in  early 
December,  when  your  father  and  I  woke  up  (he  had 
spent  the  night  with  me,  as  he  did  a  good  many 
nights),  we  found  the  ground  covered  with  a  light 
coating  of  snow,  and  the  sky  clear.  This  was  an 
ideal  condition  for  rabbit  tracking,  if  the  snow  had 
not  continued  to  fall  till  morning.  Rabbits  feed  at 
night,  and  if  the  snow  had  fallen  till  daylight  their 
tracks  of  the  night  before  would  have  been  covered 
up.  The  hired  man  told  us  that  it  had  not  snowed 
after  midnight,  and  we  had  no  doubt,  therefore,  of 
some  success.  I  remember  that  I  wanted  to  take 
'  Gyp,^  the  old  bird-dog " 

"  What  is  a  bird-dog  ? ''  asked  Rob. 

Again  Cousin  Dave  smiled.  "A  bird-dog  is  a  dog 
that,  by  its  nature  and  training,  is  able  to  track 
game  by  scenting  it,  and  point  it  when  it  is  found." 

"  How  point  it?"  again  asked  Rob. 

"  When  a  good  bird-dog  comes  near  to  the  game 
it  stops,  stretches  its  neck  toward  the  game  and  stiff- 
[9] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

ens  its  tail.  Don't  you  remember,  in  '  Pickwick.' 
how  the  action  of  a  bird-dog  puzzled  Mr.  Win- 
kle ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  said  Rob,  who  was  a  great  lover  of 
Dickens,  "  but  I  never  just  understood  what  it  all 
meant." 

"  Now,  Rob,"  said  his  father,  "  let  your  cousin 
finish  his  story,  or  the  snow  will  all  be  melted  before 
we  get  to  the  rabbit-ground." 

" '  Gyp '  stayed  home  on  this  occasion,  your  father 
insisting  that,  with  so  good  a  snow,  we  should  have 
no  use  for  a  dog.  But  the  snow  was  lighter  than 
we  had  expected  to  find  it,  and  where  the  weeds  were 
tall  no  tracks  could  be  seen.  We  had  been  told  to 
be  home  for  dinner,  and  at  eleven  o'clock  we  had  not 
secured  a  rabbit.  The  smi  had  come  out  warm,  and 
on  the  sunny  side  of  the  fences  not  a  particle  of  the 
snow  was  left.  We  had  turned  om'  footsteps  home- 
ward, and  about  decided  that  we  were  '  skunked,' 
when  a  stone,  thrown  by  your  father  into  a  brush- 
heap,  started  out  one  of  the  biggest  rabbits  I  had 
ever  seen.  We  had  only  one  gun  between  us,  and 
that  was  in  my  hands.     If  ever  a  boy  had  an  attack 

of  buck-fever  over  a  rabbit " 

[10] 


COUSIN     DAVE'S      VISIT     TO     THE     CITY 

"  A\Tiat  is  '  buck-fever '  ?  "  Rob  again  interiTipted 
to  ask. 

"  The  sight  of  a  man's  first  deer  (and  sometimes 
of  his  second  and  third)  is  ahvays  supposed  to  excite 
him  so  much  that  it  becomes  impossible  for  him  to 
shoot  at  all,  or,  if  he  fires,  to  hit  the  deer.  This 
excitement  sportsmen  call  '  buck-fever.'  I  had  it 
sm'e,  and,  seeing  the  rabbit  jumping  toward  a  pair 
of  bars  which  would  take  it  on  the  other  side  of  a 
stone  fence,  I  fired  both  ban-els  of  my  gun,  without 
taking  aim,  and  so  without  touching  it.  Your  father, 
who  had  observed  what  a  big  rabbit  it  was,  scolded 
me  roundly  for  letting  it  escape,  and  I  was  ashamed 
of  myself.  Ho^\  ever,  I  now  had  an  opportunity  of 
scolding  him,  and  telling  him  that  if  we  had  brought 
the  dog  we  could  have  tracked  the  rabbit  and  had 
another  shot.  '  Well,  come  on,'  he  said,  '  perhaps 
there's  snow  enough  the  other  side  of  this  fence  to 
track  it  after  all.'  This  proved  to  be  the  case.  The 
snow  still  lav  on  the  shady  side  of  the  fence,  and  in 
it  were  the  big  tracks  of  our  escaped  game.  We 
were  rabbit-wise  enough  to  know  that  the  rabbit 
would  probablv  soon  turn  into  the  fence,  and  so  it 
did,  its  tracks  giving  away  its  retreat.  But  now 
[11] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

another  obstacle  confronted  us.  The  place  in  the 
fence  where  the  rabbit  lay  concealed  was  not  two 
hundred  yards  fi'om  the  house  of  a  farmer  who 
thought  he  had  no  bigger  enemy  than  a  boy  ready 
to  pull  a  hole  in  one  of  his  fences  to  catch  a  rabbit. 
If  he  caught  us  we  were  likely  to  get  a  hiding.  But 
that  big  rabbit  was  worth  some  risk.  So,  while  your 
father  kept  watch  on  the  farm-house,  I  pulled  out  a 
few  stones,  and  there  sat  the  rabbit  within  reach  of 
my  hand.  I  soon  had  him  by  the  ears,  and  then, 
stooping  down  to  keep  within  shelter  of  the  fence, 
we  ran  for  home  as  fast  as  we  could." 

"  AVhat  did  you  do  with  the  rabbit  ?  "  asked  Rob. 

"  We  killed  it  and  had  it  for  dinner  the  next  day. 
It  was  the  only  rabbit  I  ever  killed  that  weighed 
seven  pounds.     What  would  you  have  done  with  it  ?  " 

"  I  think,"  said  Rob,  "  I  would  have  given  it  an- 
other chance  to  run  away,  and  redeemed  my  marks- 
manship." 

"  That  is  a  very  sportsmanlike  reply,"  said  Cousin 
Dave,  "  but  we  did  not  take  any  chances." 

Cousin  Dave  left  the  city  that  afternoon,  but  the 
seed  he  had  sown  took  root.  Rob's  father  and 
mother  talked  over  Mr.  Warren's  proposition,  and 
[12] 


COUSIN     DAVE    S      VISIT    TO    THE     C1T\ 

Rob  was  never  so  well  entei-tained  as  when  he  could 
get  his  father  into  the  library  of  an  evening  and  induce 
him  to  tell  stones  of  his  early  experiences  with  dog 
and  gun.  A  few  weeks  later  the  boy  took  a  severe 
cold,  and,  when  he  was  able  to  go  about  the  house 
again,  the  family  physician  suggested  the  advisability 
of  giving  him  the  benefit  of  country  air.  Thus  it 
came  about  that  one  May  evening  found  Rob  at  his 
cousin's  farm. 


[13 


CHAPTER  II 

LEARNING  ABOUT  THINGS 

ROB  was  sound  asleep  the  next  morning  when 
he  heard  a  knock  at  his  door  and  the  cheery 
voice  of  Cousin  Dave  calling,  "  Breakfast."  He  was 
soon  di'essed,  and  out  in  the  yard,  where  he  found 
his  cousin  attending  to  some  of  the  morning  chores. 
If  a  boy  has  any  innate  love  for  the  country  it 
will  display  itself  on  such  a  morning  as  that  on  which 
Rob  made  his  acquaintance  with  his  cousin's  farm. 
The  sun  was  bright,  the  air  agreeably  cool,  and  the 
landscape  was  decked  in  its  freshest  garb.  The 
young  foliage  on  the  trees  looked  as  soft  as  velvet, 
and  the  meadows  and  pastm-e-fields  were  carpeted 
with  a  lovely  green.  The  farm-house  was  shaded  by 
big  maples,  and  into  a  tank  near  the  kitchen  door  a 
stream  of  spring-water  was  bubbling.  Off  to  the 
left  the  land  ascended  in  natural  terraces  to  the  top 
of  a  mountain,  and  fi-om  the  piazza  could  be  seen 
stretches  of  sward,  interspersed  with  the  bright  leaves 
[14] 


LEARNING     ABOUT     THINGS 

of  peach  and  apple  orchards,  from  which  the  blos- 
soms had  not  yet  fallen. 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  called  me,"  said  Rob,  "  as  I 
want  to  see  the  cows  milked." 

Cousin  Dave  gave  one  of  his  hearty  laughs. 
"Now  the  joke  is  on  you,"  said  he.  "The  cows 
have  been  milked  for  an  hour,  and  are  out  in  the  field." 

Rob  was  amazed  to  find  that  farm-work  began  at 
so  early  an  hour,  and  asked  why  he  was  not  called 
sooner.  His  cousin  assured  him  that  he  could  in 
future  set  his  own  hom's,  but  explained  that  he  had 
let  him  sleep  because  he  thought  he  must  be  tired 
after  his  jom*ney  of  the  day  before. 

They  soon  went  in  to  breakfast,  and  there  Rob 
discovered  some  of  the  differences  between  city  and 
country  ways.  All  sat  down  to  the  table  together ; 
there  was  no  waiter  to  pass  the  dishes,  and  everyone 
did  his  or  her  part  in  handing  what  was  asked  for. 
Rob  was  amazed  at  the  size  of  the  pieces  of  bread, 
and  at  the  huge  pile  on  the  plate,  and  wondered 
why  his  Cousin  Annie,  who  was  the  house-keeper, 
cut  so  much.  But  this  was  changed  to  another 
wonder  when  he  saw  how  rapidly  the  pile  disap- 
peared, and  had  to  be  replaced. 
F  15  1 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

After  breakfast  Rob  and  Mr.  Warren  went  out 
into  the  yard,  and  the  latter  asked,  "  Now,  what 
should  you  like  to  see  first  ?  " 

"  I  think,"  said  Rob,  "  I  should  like  to  see  a 
bird-dog." 

"Jim,"  called  Mr.  Warren  to  one  of  the  men, 
"  let  out  the  dogs." 

In  a  moment  there  was  heard  a  great  barking 
from  behind  the  shed,  and  four  beautiful  dogs  came 
racing  up  to  Mr.  Warren,  apparently  ready  to  leap 
upon  him.  He  had  only  to  raise  his  hand,  however, 
to  make  them  desist,  and  they  were  satisfied  to  be 
called  by  their  names  and  to  receive  a  stroke  of  his 
hand. 

"  O  !  "  exclaimed  Rob,  "  have  you  so  many  dogs  ?  " 

His  cousin  then  gave  him  his  first  lesson  in  dog- 
lore.  He  explained  that  the  two  dogs  with  a  shaggy 
coat  were  setters,  and  those  with  a  short,  sleek  coat 
were  pointers.  These  names  were  given  them,  he 
said,  not  because  the  dogs  indicated  the  presence  of 
game  in  a  different  way,  but  simply  to  distinguish 
the  species.  Some  sportsmen  preferred  one  kind, 
and  some  another.  Pointers  were  said  to  be  the 
more  easily  broken,  but  he  had  not  found  this  to  be 
[16] 


LEARNING     ABOUT     THINGS 

a  rule.  The  pointers,  with  their  short  coats,  were 
cleaner  dogs  than  the  long-haired  setters,  and  in 
hunting  in  the  South,  where  there  are  a  great  many 
burs,  the  setters'  coats  often  got  so  full  of  them  that 
they  could  scarcely  travel. 

Then  Rob  was  told  the  dogs'  names :  the  two 
setters  were  Czar  and  Tass,  and  the  pointers  were 
Cap  and  Dan. 

"  What  did  you  mean  by  a  dog's  being  broken  ?  " 
asked  the  boy. 

"  Broken  simply  means  trained.  While  a  well- 
bred  dog  has  the  sense  of  smell  highly  developed, 
and  by  his  nature  stops  when  he  gets  close  to  the 
game,  there  are  many  things  which  he  has  to  be 
tausht  to  make  him  of  the  most  use  in  the  field. 
For  instance,  he  must  know,  to  begin  with,  that  he 
tmist  mind.  A\Tiat  I  tell  a  dog  to  do  he  imist  do  at 
once.  Of  course  a  hunting-dog  is  not  asked  by  a 
good  master  to  do  what  is  against  his  nature,  but 
there  are  a  great  many  things  that  come  to  him  almost 
naturally  when  they  are  pointed  out  to  him.  For 
instance,  we  do  not  want  the  dogs  to  begin  hunting 
vmtil  we  come  to  the  place  where  we  expect  to  find 
game.  If  they  did  they  would  tire  themselves  out 
[11] 


HOB     AND     HIS     GUN 

unnecessarily.  So  one  of  the  first  things  they  are 
taught  is  to  '  heel ' — that  is,  to  keep  behind  their 
master  when  he  wants  them  to.  I  will  let  you  see 
how  they  do  this.  But  first  I  will  show  you  another 
of  their  elementary  lessons.  A  dog  must  always  lie 
do\m  when  he  is  told  to.  The  command  to  lie 
down  is  the  word  '  charge.' " 

Raising  his  hand,  their  master  said,  in  a  com- 
manding tone,  "  Charge,"  and  every  dog  crouched 
down  on  the  ground.  Then,  stepping  forward,  he 
called  Czar,  and  Czar  leaped  forward.  He  let  him 
run  in  front  of  him  a  little  way,  and  then  called  out, 
"  Czar,  heel."  The  obedient  dog  at  once  came  back 
and  followed  behind  his  master's  steps. 

"O,  Cousin  Dave,"  exclaimed  Rob,  "is  it  not 
wonderful  ? "" 

"  Only  as  an  exhibition  of  what  intelligence  in 
the  dog  and  patience  in  the  master  can  accomplish. 
i  consider  dog- training  a  gift.  Some  men  have  a 
gift  in  teaching  birds  and  animals,  and  I  do  not 
think  that  a  man  who  does  not  really  love  a  dog  can 
be  a  good  teacher  of  one." 

"  Who  taught  yours  ?  "  asked  Rob. 
"  I  always  break  my  own  dogs,  but  many  sports- 
[  18  ] 


LEARNING     ABOUT     THINGS 

men,  including  all  who  live  in  cities,  could  not  do 
this,  even  if  they  had  the  skill  and  patience.  But  I 
think  a  dog  always  works  best  for  the  man  who  has 
shown  him  what  he  is  to  do." 

"  And  w  hat  else  do  bird-dogs  have  to  learn  .? " 
"  O,  you  have  only  seen  them  at  their  a,  b,  c's. 
This  is  the  closed  season  for  game  (I  will  explain 
about  that  later),  but  I  may  be  able  to  let  you  see 
some  other  results  of  their  education."" 

Sending  three  of  the  dogs  back  to  their  kennels, 
they  went  with  Czar  into  a  field  near  by,  where  the 
unploughed  stubble  afforded  some  cover.  Mr.  War- 
ren said  that  they  might  be  able  to  find  a  rabbit  sit- 
ting in  his  resting-place,  or,  more  likely,  a  meadow- 
lark  in  the  grass.  Czar  was  kept  "  to  heel "  until 
they  were  well  out  in  the  field.  Then  his  master 
cried,  "  Hie  on,"  and  away  he  bounded,  eager  for  the 
sport.  Rob  noticed  at  once  that  the  dog  did  not 
nni  forward  in  a  straight  line,  but  zigzagged  across 
the  field.  "  That,"  his  cousin  explained,  "  is  what 
is  meant  by  'ranging.'  If  the  dog  ran  straight 
across  the  field  he  would  discover  no  game  that  did 
not  lie  right  in  front  of  him.  But  he  is  taught  to 
'  range,'  that  is,  cover  the  whole  field  as  he  runs 
f  19  1 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

through  it.     The  value  of  a  quail-dog  depends  in  a 
large  degree  on  his  being  a  good  ranger." 

"  There  goes  a  bird  !  *"  cried  Rob. 

"  Notice  it  carefully.  Do  you  see  anything  pecul- 
iar in  its  flight  ?  " 

"  No — o,''  said  Rob,  doubtfully. 

"  That  is  because  you  have  still  to  take  your  les- 
sons in  bird-lore.  Almost  every  species  of  bird  has 
a  flight  of  its  own,  and  a  countryman  ought  to  be 
able  to  distinguish  any  bird,  as  far  as  he  can  see  it 
distinctly,  simply  by  its  manner  of  flight.  That  bird 
was  a  meadow-lark,  and  if  you  will  notice  closely  the 
next  one  that  gets  up  you  will  see  that  it  flies  first 
with  a  sort  of  sailing  motion,  and  then  with  a  flicker 
of  its  wings.  Even  if  its  color  did  not  distinguish 
it,  you  could  tell  it  from  its  flight." 

This  seemed  very  wonderful  to  Rob,  and  he  con- 
fessed to  himself  that  he  feared  he  would  have  to 
take  a  great  many  lessons  before  he  could  thus  tell 
one  bird  from  another. 

As  they  walked  along,  Mr.  Warren  explained  that 
trained  dogs  would  not  point  small  birds,  like  spar- 
rows, and  that  the  law  did  not  permit  the  shooting 
of  meadow-larks.     But  these  birds  had  a  game  scent, 
[20] 


L  E  A  K  N I N  G     ABOUT     THINGS 

and,  while  he  would  not  encourage  a  young  dog  to 
point  them,  it  would  do  no  harm  to  an  old  dog  like 
Czar  to  have  a  little  practice  with  them. 

Other  larks  now  got  up,  but  far  ahead  of  them. 
^Mien  Czar  approached  a  part  of  the  field  where  the 
stubble  was  taller  he  moved  more  carefully,  his  tail 
wagged  vigorously,  and  then  he  stopped  and  stood 
as  rigid  as  a  statue. 

"  O,"  exclaimed  Rob,  "  Cousin  Dave,  is  that  a 
point  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  a  point.'^ 

"  And  how  long  will  he  stand  there  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  hard  to  tell.  Czar  is  an  old  dog, 
and  w^hat  we  call  a  '  stanch  "■  one — that  is,  one  who 
will  keep  his  point  until  told  to  break  it.  While 
he  is  standing  there  I  may  tell  you  that  some  dogs 
are  trained  to  put  up  (technically,  to  '  flush ')  the 
bird  when  the  hunter  is  ready  to  shoot.  Others  will 
not  break  their  point  even  at  the  command.  I  think 
it  best  to  let  a  dog  stand  while  the  hunter  puts  up 
the  bird  if  the  animal  can  only  be  driven  from  his 
point.  But  it  is  very  convenient  sometimes  to  let 
the  dog  flush  the  game,  especially  if  it  lies  in  thick 
cover.  All  my  dogs  are  trained  to  do  so." 
[21] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN    ' 

They  had  now  approached  quite  near  the  old  dog, 
and  could  see  the  eager  look  with  which  he  was  ap- 
parently trying  to  fix  his  eye  on  what  was  in  front 
of  him.  After  letting  Rob  enjoy  the  sight  a  few 
moments,  Mr.  WaiTen  said,  "  Now  we  will  see  what 
there  is  there.  It  may  be  that  the  bird  has  risen, 
and  that  he  only  catches  the  scent  it  has  left  behind. 
This  sometimes  occurs,  and  meadow-larks  are  a  wary 
bird,  and  in  thin  cover  do  not  lie  well.  Hie  on, 
Czar." 

Czar  moved  forward,  and  out  of  the  grass  went, 
not  a  bird,  but  a  big  rabbit. 

It  was  just  as  much  Czar's  nature  to  chase  that 
rabbit  as  it  woiild  have  been  if  he  had  been  only  a 
common  dog,  but  his  master  cried,  "  Drop,"  and 
down  he  went  on  his  belly. 

RoVs  enthusiasm  was  aroused  to  the  highest  point. 
Was  the  rabbit,  he  asked,  as  big  a  one  as  his  father 
and  cousin  had  tracked  into  the  stone  wall  ?  Could 
they  have  shot  it  if  they  had  had  a  gun  ?  Would 
Czar  be  able  to  point  it  again  ?  To  the  latter  query 
his  cousin  replied  that  the  rabbit  would  probably 
find  some  hole  in  the  ground,  or  in  a  fence,  where  it 
would  be  safe  for  the  present.  He  also  explained 
r  22  1 


LEARNING     ABOUT     THINGS 

that  rabbits  were  not  considered  very  highly  as  game 
by  sportsmen,  and  that  some  dogs  were  not  allowed 
to  point  them,  although  this  was  something  that  few 
dogs  would  learn.  When  they  were  hunted  it  was 
usually  with  a  hound,  a  dog  that  has  a  "  good  nose," 
that  is,  a  keen  scent,  but  routs  and  follows  the  game 
instead  of  pointing  it.  A  good  hound  would  mn  a 
rabbit  quite  slowly,  and  the  rabbit,  in  doubling  on 
its  own  track,  would  generally  come  back  near  the 
starting  point,  and  thus  be  within  reach  of  the 
hunter's  gun. 

We  have  not  time  to  follow  Rob  in  all  his  lessons 
in  dog  and  bird  lore,  and  must  content  ourselves 
with  the  information  that  he  did,  before  the  summer 
was  over,  acquire  skill  in  distinguishing  the  common 
birds  by  their  flight,  spent  many  houi's  with  his 
cousin  studying  birds  with  the  aid  of  an  opera-glass, 
and  found  his  enjoyment  of  country-Hfe  increased  a 
hundred-fold  by  the  knowledge  he  thus  obtained. 
It  was  a  favorite  saying  of  Mr.  Warren's  that  the 
country  resident  who  does  not  know  the  birds  and 
the  flowers  that  are  seen  on  every  hand,  loses  one  of 
the  gi'eatest  attractions  of  his  surroundings. 

[23] 


CHAPTER  III 

A  FIRST  LESSON  IN  SHOOTING 

AFTER  dinner  of  the  first  day  (they  dined  at 
noon  at  the  farm),  Mr.  Warren  asked  Rob  to 
follow  him  upstairs  as  he  wanted  to  show  him  his 
"  gun-room."  Tliis  Rob  found  to  be  a  small  cham- 
ber which  was  devoted  to  guns  and  other  shooting 
paraphernalia.  All  these  were  explained  to  Rob  in 
due  order.  He  was  taught  the  difference  between 
the  muzzle-loaders,  which,  his  cousin  said,  were  the 
only  guns  in  use  when  Rob's  father  and  he  were 
boys,  and  the  modern  breech-loader.  He  was 
shown  the  empty  paper-shells  and  the  loading  tools, 
and  told  what  an  advantage  smokeless  powder  was 
in  the  field  and  the  uses  of  different  sizes  of  shot. 
He  handled  guns  of  different  weight,  and  found  no 
difficulty  in  undei"standing  the  superiority  of  a  heavy 
gun  in  shooting  ducks  from  a  boat,  and  the  advan- 
tage of  a  light  one  in  tramping  all  day  over  the 
field. 

[24] 


A     FIRST     LESSON     IN     SHOOTING 

"  Yes,"  remarked  Mr,  Wan-en,  "  things  in  the 
shooting  hne  have  changed  wonderfully  since  your 
father  and  I  were  boys.  It  would  seem  slow  work 
now,  loading  a  gun  every  time  it  was  necessary,  with 
a  ramrod.  I  remember,  by  the  way,  getting  so 
excited  once  when  a  boy  in  hm'rying  to  load  my 
gun  to  shoot  a  squirrel  out  of  a  tree-top  that  I  shot 
away  my  ramrod.  And  with  smokeless  powder  it  is 
very  easy  to  mark  the  birds  of  a  flock  as  they  fly 
away,  whereas,  with  the  black  powder,  we  often  had 
to  kneel  down  to  look  under  the  smoke,  in  order  to 
mark  the  birds,  and  even  to  see  if  our  shot  had 
taken  effect.  And  yet  I  am  not  sure  that  the  new 
inventions  have  not  been  a  disadvantage  to  good 
sport.  It  is  a  mathematical  certainty  that,  the 
more  game  is  shot,  the  less  there  will  be  left,  and 
breech-loaders  and  smokeless  powder  do  help  kill  off" 
the  birds.  This  is  especially  noticeable  with  the 
bay  birds  and  wild  fowl,  which  had  a  fair  chance 
when  a  hunter  had  to  spend  some  minutes,  standing 
up,  in  reloading  his  gun,  but  which  stand  a  poor 
show  when  a  gun  can  be  reloaded  instantly,  and 
without  exposing  the  shooter.  However,  everyone 
wants  the  best  thafs  made,  and  so  it  is  with  the 
[25j 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

sportsman,  and  the  man  who  does  not  use  the  best 
will  be  distanced." 

After  this  bit  of  philosophizing,  Mr.  Wan'en  took 
down  a  light  twelve-gauge  gun,  of  a  well-known 
make,  and  asked  Rob  to  level  it  and  see  how  he 
thought  it  would  suit  him.  Rob  did  not  exactly  know 
what  a  gun  should  be  to  "  suit  him,"  but  his  cousin 
explained  that  it  should  adjust  itself  naturally  to 
his  shoulder,  without  requiring  two  or  three  efforts 
to  get  it  there,  and  that  the  stock  should  be  so  bent 
that  the  holder  of  the  weapon  could  sight  it  at  once. 
After  several  lessons  in  bringing  it  up  and  sighting 
it,  under  Mr.  Warren's  direction,  Rob  decided  (or 
perhaps  it  would  l)e  more  correct  to  say  that  Mr. 
Warren  decided  for  him)  that  the  gun  was  a  good 
fit,  except  that  the  stock  wanted  a  very  little 
shortening,  which  could  be  easily  effected.  Then 
Rob  was  told  that  this  gun  was  to  be  his,  and  a  very 
proud  boy  he  was  when  he  earned  it  to  his  own 
room,  to  make  its  better  acquaintance,  as  his  cousin 
suggested.  The  latter  did  not  give  him  any  car- 
tridges to  go  with  it,  wisely  deciding  that  the  first 
use  of  cartridges  ought  to  be  made  under  his  o\\ti 
eye. 

[26] 


A     FIRST     LESSON     IX     SHOOTING 

One  of  RoVs  first  questions  the  next  morning 
was,  "  Cousin  Dave,  how  can  a  boy  learn  to  shoot  ?  " 

"  Practice  is  the  principal  thing.  But  the  very 
best  shots — I  mean  wing-shots — have  a  natural  gift, 
which  is  born  in  them.  I  do  not  say  that  a  boy 
who  has  not  this  gift  cannot  become  a  good  shot, 
but  if  he  has  the  gift  he  will  be  saved  lots  of  trouble 
and  many  a  disappointment.'' 

"  Then,  if  I  want  practice,  how  can  I  get  it  when 
the  season  for  all  kinds  of  game  is  '  closed,'  as  you 
called  it  yesterday  morning  ? "" 

"  The  season  is  called  '  closed '  when  the  law  for- 
bids the  killing  of  a  certain  kind  of  game.  This 
law  is  enacted  to  preserve  what  game  we  have  left. 
Game  laws  are  not  always  very  wisely  drawn,  but 
they  all  aim  to  forbid  the  shooting  in  the  early 
spring  and  throughout  the  breeding  season.  Game 
laws  differ  in  different  States,  and  the  open  seasons 
for  different  kind  of  game  are  different.  For  in- 
stance, in  this  State  it  is  lawful  to  shoot  woodcock 
in  July,  while  quail  and  ruffed  gi'ouse  (called  in  the 
Northern  States  partridge)  can  be  shot  only  in 
November  and  December.  This  is  because  the 
woodcock  hatches  its  young  very  early  in  the  spring, 
[27] 


EOB     AND     HIS     GUN 

and  they  are  supposed  to  be  big  enough  to  eat  in 
July.  There  is  a  growing  prejudice,  however,  against 
this  summer  shooting,  for  one  reason,  because  there 
are  men  who  will  shoot  quail  in  July  as  soon  as 
woodcock  if  they  put  them  up.  I  carry  too  much 
flesh  to  find  pleasure  in  tramping  through  a  miry 
swamp  under  a  July  sun,  in  the  hope  of  killing  a 
few  birds  that  are  not  strong  enough  to  give  them- 
selves a  fair  chance  to  escape.  But  I  have  got  away 
from  your  question  about  practice-shooting.  I  think 
the  first  practice  I  will  give  you  will  be  over  a  trap 
with  clay  pigeons." 

"  I  am  afraid  1  don't  understand  those  terms,"  said 
Rob. 

"  Of  course  not.  Come  out  to  the  wagon-shed 
and  ril  show  you." 

There,  Rob  was  first  shown  a  trap.  This  was  a 
sort  of  spring  arrangement,  and  the  "  clay  pigeon  " 
was  not  a  bird  at  all,  but  a  clay  saucer.  When  the 
trap  was  set,  and  the  so-called  pigeon  placed  in  it, 
the  pulling  of  a  cord  sprung  the  trap,  and  away 
sailed  the  clay  "  bird  "  with  a  pretty  good  imitation 
of  the  flight  of  a  real  one. 

"  I  don't  say,"  Mr.  Wan-en  explained,  "  that  a 
[28] 


A     FIRST     LESSON     IN     SHOOTING 

clay  bird  out  of  a  trap  is  as  good  a  practice-mark  as 
a  real  bird.  But,  in  the  first  place,  no  real  sports- 
man, and  no  good-hearted  boy,  would  shoot  our  song- 
birds just  for  practice.  And,  in  the  second  place, 
while  many  sportsmen  do  shoot  tame  pigeons  which 
are  let  out  of  a  trap,  I  am  opposed  to  taking  life  in 
this  way,  and  to  leaving  wounded  birds  to  die,  as 
many  of  them  certainly  will.  Be  a  true  sportsman, 
Rob,  fi-om  the  start.  Never  kill  anything  just  for 
the  sake  of  killing.  Shoot  no  more  game  birds, 
no  matter  how  abundant  they  are,  than  youi'  reason- 
able wants  for  food  require.  Give  every  wild  thing 
you  hunt,  whether  it  be  a  bird  or  a  deer,  a  chance 
for  its  life.  If  you  follow  these  rules,  you  need  not 
feel  very  badly  if  some  tender-hearted  young  lady 
chides  you  for  shooting  game  under  any  circum- 
stances." 

Later,  in  the  afternoon,  when  Mr.  Warren  had 
attended  to  some  of  the  details  of  his  farm  work,  one 
of  the  men  carried  the  trap  into  a  field,  and  Rob  had 
his  first  experience  in  marksmanship.  Mr.  Warren 
stood  behind  the  trap  first,  and  showed  him  how  to 
hold  his  gun,  when  to  give  the  order  "  pull,"  and  how 
to  aim.  It  did  look  so  very  easy  to  break  those 
[29  1 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

"  birds  "  as  they  sailed  away  in  front  of  the  marks- 
man, and  when  four  had  been  shattered  to  pieces  at 
the  explosion  of  Mr.  Warren's  gun,  Rob  did  have  a 
feeling  that  he  would  surprise  his  cousin. 

So  he  stepped  into  place  with  some  confidence  when 
he  was  told  to,  got  his  gun  in  position,  as  his  cousin 
directed,  and  said  "  pull.'"  Then  something  occurred 
that  he  had  not  counted  on.  The  mark  that  seemed 
to  fly  so  quietly  and  smoothly  when  Mr.  Warren 
was  at  the  trap,  now  appeared  to  the  boy  to  be  rush- 
ing away  from  him  at  a  speed  that  required  the  ut- 
most quickness  on  his  part  to  fire  his  gun  at  all  be- 
fore the  bird  disappeared  on  the  ground,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  taking  any  aim.  So  there  came  two  "  bang  " 
"  bangs  "  before  his  gun  was  fairly  at  his  shoulder, 
and  the  meniest  kind  of  a  laugh  from  Cousin  Dave. 

"  Kill  'em  both  ?  "  asked  the  latter. 

"  I  did  not  see  but  one,"  replied  Rob. 

"  Did  you  see  that  one  ?  " 

"  Not  very  long.     Don't  they  go  like  a  streak  ?  " 

"  You  think  they  do.     The  first  feeling  of  a  young 

wing-shot  is  that  the  game  is  going  to  get  away  from 

him,  and  that  he  must  fire  just  as  quickly  as  possible 

or  lose  it.     Whereas,  the  fact  is  that,  if  he  does 

[30] 


A     FIRST     LESSOX     IX     SHOOTIXG 

slam-bang  without  aim,  he  is  going  to  score  a  miss, 
sure.  Try  it  again,  and  promise  not  to  fire  until  I 
cry  '  shoot.' " 

Again  the  trap  was  set,  and  again  Rob  took  his 
place.  He  was  now  told  to  bring  his  gun  up  several 
times  before  the  word  "  pull "  was  given,  in  the  way 
of  practice.  Then  a  clay  bird  was  placed  in  the 
trap,  and  the  string  was  pulled.  "  Wait,"  cried 
Cousin  Dave,  "  till  I  say  shoot."  But  he  did  not 
say  the  word,  and  the  mark  sailed  to  the  ground 
without  being  shot  at.  "  Did  you  follow  it  ?  "  Rob 
was  asked.  Yes,  he  thought  he  did.  "  I  did  that," 
it  was  explained  to  him,  "  to  get  you  used  to  taking 
aim.  Now,  we  will  have  another  bird."  Rob  gave 
the  word  "  pull "  this  time,  and  again  he  missed. 
"  Only  what  I  expected,"  was  the  encouraging  com- 
ment of  his  instructor.  "  If  you  had  hit  it,  it  would 
have  been  little  else  than  an  accident.  You  see,  you 
have  everything  to  learn." 

Mr.  Warren  now  fired  four  times,  missing  one  of 
the  shots,  to  Rob's  encouragement,  for  the  boy  re- 
garded him  as  invincible,  and  then  Rob  took  his 
place  again. 

"  Now,"  said  Mr.  Warren,  "  you  are  going  to  break 
[31] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

this  one.  The  trap  is  fixed  to  throw  the  bird  very 
straight  up  into  the  air,  and  I  want  you  to  shoot 
just  when  it  has  reached  the  highest  point.  There, 
for  a  moment,  it  is  stationary." 

Wlien  Rob  fired,  the  clay  saucer  was  broken  into 
a  hundred  pieces.  "  I  pealed  it,"  cried  Rob,  in  gi'eat 
delight. 

"  I  guess  you  did.  Took  all  the  skin  off  it.  Don't 
think  that  bird  would  make  even  pot-pie." 

This  practice  was  continued  for  an  hour,  during 
which  Rob  broke  several  more  of  the  birds,  missing 
more  than  he  broke,  of  course,  but  gaining  confidence 
in  himself,  and  becoming  a  little  accustomed  to  the 
handling  of  the  gun  and  the  rapid  flight  of  the  marks. 

Thus,  Rob  had  his  first  lesson  in  wing-shoot- 
ing. 

As  they  walked  back  to  the  house,  Mr.  Warren 
said :  "  Along  with  your  lessons  in  handHng  a  gun, 
you  must  learn  to  manage  your  dog." 

"  Where  am  I  to  get  one  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  give  you  the  little  liver-and- white 

pointer,  Cap,  for   your  very   own.     He   is   young 

enough  to  be  made  to  know  that  you  alone  are  his 

master,  and  you  can  make  or  spoil  him.     He  may  be 

[32] 


A     FIRST     I>ESSON     IN     SHOOTING 

called  broken  now,  but  a  wise  dog  keeps  on  learning, 
and  you  are  to  be  his  teacher." 

"  O,  Cousin  Dave,  is  not  that  a  great  responsi- 
bility?" 

Mr.  Warren  smiled  at  the  boy's  earnestness. 
"  Not  too  much  of  a  responsibihty.  Of  course  I 
will  give  you  a  good  many  hints.  In  the  first  place, 
you  alone  must  feed  him.  A  large  part  of  the  road 
to  a  dog's  aiFection  Hes  by  way  of  his  mouth.  The 
hand  that  feeds  him  he  soon  knows  is  the  hand  of  a 
fiiend.  Then  you  must  take  him  walking  with  you 
in  the  fields,  keeping  him  '  at  heel ""  or  sending  him 
forward  at  yom*  pleasm-e,  letting  him  retrieve  things 
now  and  then " 

"  ^\Tiat  does  retrieve  mean  ?  " 

"  I  forgot  that  I  had  not  explained  this  to  you. 
'  Retrieving '  means  bringing  to  you  the  game  after 
you  have  shot  it.  This  is  a  very  important  part  of 
a  dog's  education.  Many  birds,  when  they  are  shot, 
fall  in  the  brush  and  the  weeds,  and  would  be  lost  if 
the  dog  did  not  find  them  and  cany  them  to  his 
master.  All  my  dogs  are  taught  to  bring  in  the 
birds  and  to  hold  them  up  to  me  when  they  reach 
me.'' 

[33] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

"  Is  this  something  they  have  to  be  taught  ?  '^ 
"  Yes,  but  some  dogs  require  very  little  teaching. 
It  seems  to  be  natm-al  for  them  to  fetch  things.  In 
England,  I  believe,  a  separate  dog  is  used  to  retrieve 
the  game,  but  they  do  not  hunt  in  England  very 
much  as  we  do.  The  shooters  generally  conceal 
themselves  behind  some  bank  or  wall,  and  have  the 
birds  di'iven  over  them  by  beaters.  I  have  always 
considered  this  very  poor  sport ;  not  much  in  ad- 
vance of  shooting  tame  pigeons  from  a  trap.  Czar 
was  the  most  obstinate  dog  in  refusing  to  retrieve 
that  I  ever  tried  to  teach.  He  was  very  intelligent, 
and  knew  what  I  wanted  him  to  do  just  as  well  as  I 
did ;  but  when  he  made  up  his  mind  not  to  retrieve 
he  simply  would  not.  He  would  crawl  off  at  the 
word  and  lie  down.  But  I  kept  at  him,  and  did 
some  pretty  severe  punishing,  and  now  he  enjoys 
retrieving  as  much  as  the  other  dogs.  There  he 
comes  now.      I  will  show  you." 

Picking  up  a  corn-cob  that  lay  in  the  field,  Mr. 

Warren  called  the  dog  to  him,  and,  throwing  the 

cob  as  far  as  he  could,  said,  "Go  fetch."     Away 

went  the  dog,  and  back  he  came  with  the  cob  in  his 

[34] 


A     FIRST     LESSON     IN     SHOOTING 

mouth,  sitting  up  when  he  reached  his  master,  and 
presenting  the  colj  for  him  to  take. 

Rob  thought,  when  night  came,  that  he  had  had 
one  of  the  most  wonderful  days  of  his  hfe,  and  he 
went  to  sleep  to  dream  of  firing  at  clay  pigeons  and 
having  the  dog  retrieve  them. 


[35] 


CHAPTER  IV 

A  SEPTEMBER  WALK 

IT  must  not  be  supposed  that  Rob  spent  the 
whole  summer  practising  with  his  gun  and  walk- 
ing about  with  his  dog.  That  was  not  his  cousin's 
plan  for  him.  Mr.  Warren  wanted  him  to  have  a 
share  in  all  the  farm  work  that  was  within  his 
strength,  and  in  this  way  to  discover  if  country  life 
on  a  farm  would  be  to  his  taste,  acquiring  at  the 
same  time  all  the  knowledge  of  nature  that  he  could. 
Rob  entered  eagerly  into  this  plan,  and  in  a  month 
he  could  milk  a  cow,  prune  peach-ti'ees,  of  which 
Mr.  Warren  had  a  large  orchard,  and  do  a  little 
gardening.  Later,  when  the  haying  and  harvesting 
came  on,  he  learned  to  rake  hay  and  to  help  gather 
the  sheaves  of  grain.  But  there  was  less  of  this 
work  than  there  was  when  his  father  was  a  farm  lad, 
because  machinery  nowadays  does  so  much  of  it. 
There  is  no  more  worthless  country  boy  than  the 
one  who  thinks  only  of  running  about  with  his  gun, 
[36] 


A     S  E  P  T  E  ]M  B  E  R     WALK 

and  I  want  my  readers  to  understand  that  Rob  did 
not  come  within  this  description.  But  I  am  telling 
about  his  hunting  experiences,  not  about  his  becom- 
ing a  farmer.  So  we  will  go  on  with  his  lessons  as 
a  sportsman. 

In  the  State  where  Mr.  Warren  lived  the  open 
season  for  game  allowed  the  shooting  of  woodcock  in 
July,  October,  November,  and  December ;  of  quail, 
ruffed  grouse,  and  rabbits  in  November  and  Decem- 
ber. All  the  song-birds  were  protected  at  all  sea- 
sons, as  they  should  be.  As  has  been  explained, 
Mr.  Warren  did  not  care  to  hunt  woodcock  in  the 
hot  season.  Rob  did,  however,  get  his  first  sight  of 
this  fine  bird  before  the  autumn  arrived. 

Walking  out  one  day  in  early  June  with  his 
cousin,  two  of  the  dogs,  including  Cap,  of  com'se, 
accompanying  them,  when  they  came  to  the  border 
of  a  little  swamp,  Rob  called  out,  "  O,  Cousin 
Dave,  Cap  is  on  a  point."  Surely  enough  he  was, 
as  stiff  as  if  he  were  frozen.  As  Mr.  AVarren  came 
up  with  Czar,  the  latter  became  as  stiff  as  the  other 
dog. 

"  See  Czar,"  cried  Rob,  "  he  has  a  bird  too." 

"  No,  he  is  what  we  call  '  backing '  Cap.  When 
[37] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

a  good  bird-dog  sees  another  dog  pointing,  he  at 
once,  from  some  instinct,  stops  and  points  also.  One 
of  the  most  beautiful  sights  in  the  field  is  to  see  two 
or  three  dogs  backing  another  that  has  a  point.  I 
have  a  pictm'e  of  such  a  sight  at  the  house  that  I 
will  show  you.    Now  let  us  see  what  Cap  has  found."" 

Thinking  that  it  might  be  a  nest  with  young  birds, 
Mr.  Warren  did  not  let  Cap  go  on  to  flush  (that  is, 
put  up)  the  birds,  but  stepped  in  front  of  him  him- 
self. As  he  did  so,  a  bird  with  a  very  long  bill,  and 
of  a  beautiful  brown  color,  flew  up.  "  Note  that," 
he  called  to  Rob  ;  "  that  is  a  woodcock." 

"  What  a  beauty.  But  see.  It  has  only  flown 
such  a  short  way." 

"  It,  doubtless,  has  young  ones  here.  Follow  it, 
Rob,  keeping  Cap  close  to  you,  and  you  will  prob- 
ably learn  something  of  the  woodcock's  intelligence." 

Rob  carefully  approached  the  spot  where  he  had 
seen  the  woodcock  light,  but  before  he  got  near 
enough  for  the  dog  to  point,  the  bird  flew  up  and 
moved  away  in  a  sort  of  shuffling  flight,  as  if  it  was 
hurt. 

"  This  woodcock  has  been  wounded,"  cried  Rob. 
"  Poor  thing,  it  cannot  fly." 
[38] 


o* 


o 


A     S  E  P  T  E  ]M  B  E  R     WALK 

"  Keep  on  followang  it  slowly  with  the  dog,  and 
see  what  will  happen." 

Rob  did  so,  the  bird  continuing  to  get  up  and 
shuffle  off  every  time  they  approached  it,  until  it  had 
led  them  some  hundreds  of  yards  from  the  place  of 
discovery,  when  up  it  flew  with  able  wing,  and,  turn- 
ing, darted  back  in  the  direction  from  which  it  had 
come.  Rob  looked  at  it  in  blank  astonishment,  much 
to  Mr.  WaiTen's  amusement. 

^^^len  he  rejoined  his  cousin,  the  latter  parted  the 
grass  and  showed  him  the  bird's  nesting-place.  It 
was  empty,  but  he  was  told  that  the  young  birds 
were  hidden  nearby,  and,  keeping  the  dogs  carefully 
behind  them,  they  soon  discovered  a  downy  little 
thing  that  was  making  itself  as  small  as  possible,  and 
keeping  perfectly  still. 

"  That  was  a  trick  of  the  mother-bird,"  said  Mr. 
Warren,  "  to  draw  the  dog  and  you,  too,  although 
she  feared  the  dog  most,  away  from  her  young. 
Woodcock  frequently  do  this,  and  so  do  ruffed  grouse. 
She  started  back  to  the  nest  when  she  thought  she 
had  drawn  you  far  enough  away,  but  I  again  alarmed 
her,  and  she  dropped  in  that  clump  of  bushes  over 
there.  This  hatching  is  a  late  one,  or  the  birds 
[39  1 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

would  be  larger.  But  such  late  hatches  are  not  un- 
common, and  that  is  one  reason  why  I  object  to 
summer  woodcock  shooting.  These  birds  will  not 
be  fit  to  shoot  in  July,  and  yet  there  are  too  many 
hunters  who  would  not  hesitate  to  kill  them  if  they 
came  across  them." 

Mr.  Warren  went  on  to  explain  to  Rob  that  the 
woodcock  is  a  migratory  bird,  while  the  quail  and 
ruffed  grouse  are  not.  The  woodcock,  he  said,  breeds 
perhaps  in  all  the  States,  although  he  was  not  cer- 
tain that  it  did  so  in  the  far  South.  Large 
numbers  of  them  go  far  North  in  the  early  spring, 
and  their  return  in  October  makes  what  are  called 
"  flights,""  when  they  are  in  perfect  condition,  and 
afford  the  finest  of  shooting.  "  Killing  a  fall  wood- 
cock," said  he,  "  is  quite  another  thing  from  killing  a 
weak  young  bird  in  July.  The  fall  birds,  however, 
are  very  uncertain  in  their  coming.  We  generally 
count  on  them  to  arrive  with  the  full  moon  in  Oc- 
tober, for  they  are  noctm^ial  in  their  habits,  and 
both  fly  and  feed  at  night.  You  might  hunt  over 
a  piece  of  ground  to-day,  and  not  put  up  a  bird,  and 
to-morrow  flush  a  score  or  more  in  the  same  place. 
The  fall  birds,  too,  do  not  confine  themselves  to 
[40] 


A     SEPTEMBER     ^V   A  L  K 

swamps  for  their  lighting-places.  An  upland,  where 
there  is  a  growth  of  brush,  following  the  cutting  off 
of  the  timber,  seems  to  be  very  much  to  their  liking, 
and  we  always  look  very  carefully  for  them  when  we 
come  to  a  clump  of  white  birch,  like  that  to  your 
left.  I  have  never  ascertained  whether  the  birds 
find  some  agreeable  food  under  the  birch  to  attract 
them,  but  I  have  a  theory  of  my  own  that  it  is  the 
white  color  of  the  trees,  showing  plainly  at  night, 
that  induces  them  to  light  there." 

But  we  were  to  take  a  walk  with  Rob  and  his 
cousin  in  September,  and  must  be  about  it.  It  was 
a  clear,  cool  day,  and  Mr.  WaiTen  explained  to  Rob 
that  it  would  be  a  good  time  to  look  over  their 
nearby  hunting-gi'oimid,  and  see  if  there  was  a  good 
prospect  of  birds  for  the  later  shooting.  "  I  always 
want  to  know  pretty  well  where  the  nearby  birds  are 
before  going  out,  so  as  not  to  lose  too  much  time 
hunting  for  them  when  shooting-time  comes,"  he 
explained.  They  took  Cap  and  Czar,  and  with  a 
lunch  in  their  pockets,  were  ready  for  a  whole  day's 
outing  if  need  be. 

Rob  had  already  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  single 
quail  that  was  in  the  habit  of  singing  its  "bob- white" 
[41] 


ROB     AND      HIS     GUN 

on  a  fence  back  of  the  house,  during  the  nesting- 
season,  but  he  was  now  to  see  the  birds  gathered  in 
a  flock.  He  had  also  been  told  the  meaning  of  a 
distant  drumming  sound  that  he  had  heard  many 
times  repeated  on  the  nearby  mountain  in  the  spring- 
time. That  was  the  drumming  of  the  ruffed  grouse, 
or  partridge,  made  by  striking  its  wings  against  a 
log.  Why  it  did  this  Mr.  Warren  said  he  would 
not  undertake  to  explain.  He  knew,  however,  that 
it  was  not  done  solely  to  attract  a  mate,  because  he 
had  heard  the  sound  as  late  as  October.  Rob  had 
not  yet  seen  one  of  these  fine  birds. 

Their  course  led  them  across  a  meadow,  from 
which  a  great  many  meadow-larks  arose.  Then 
they  came  to  a  field  Avhere  wheat  had  been  grown 
that  year.  "  Here,""  said  Mr.  Warren,  "  we  are 
likely  to  find  the  family  of  quail  Avhose  father  you 
heard  '  bob-whiting '  all  summer.  Let  us  send  the 
dogs  ahead." 

The  dogs  went  willingly  enough.  Cap  with  a  rush, 
and  Czar  with  what  perhaps  he  considered  more 
dignity.  They  had  ranged  over  half  the  field  when 
Czar"'s  tail  began  to  wag  with  great  earnestness. 
Mr.  Warren  called  Rob's  attention  to  this,  telling 
[42j 


A   septe:mber   walk 

him  that  that  was  what  was  called  in  sportsmen"'s 
parlance  "  making  game  " ;  that  is,  he  had  scented 
something.  As  Cap  swung  around,  so  that  the  wind 
blew  toward  him  from  the  direction  of  a  brushy 
fence,  he,  too,  became  excited,  and  his  tail  began  to 
lash  the  air.  "  Steady,  steady,"  Mr.  Warren  called 
to  them,  and  the  dogs  moved  foi-ward,  side  by  side. 
Czar  drew  ahead  a  little  toward  the  fence,  and  sud- 
denly came  to  a  full  stop,  with  his  head  turned 
around  to  the  left. 

"  Czar  has  found  them,"  cried  Rob,  "  and  see, 
Cap  is  backing  him." 

"  Now  what  would  you  do  if  we  were  out  with  o\ir 
gims  ?  "  asked  ]\Ir.  Warren. 

"  Hurry  up  to  the  dogs  and  be  ready  to  shoot," 
replied  Rob. 

]Mr.  Warren  laughed  one  of  his  hearty  laughs. 
"  I  knew  it.  A  candid  confession.  Just  what  you 
thought  you  must  do  when  you  first  tried  to  break 
a  clay  pigeon.  And  just  what  you  will  do  in  No- 
vember, although  you  will  think  that  you  will  not. 
Don't  ever  be  in  a  huny  to  shoot.  I  do  not  mean 
that  you  will  not  in  the  course  of  your  experience, 
if  you  hunt  a  good  many  years,  be  required  to  make 
[  43  1 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

some  quick  shots,  if  you  get  those  shots  at  all ;  but 
when  you  have  the  dogs  before  you  telling  you  where 
the  birds  lie,  trust  them  not  to  flush  the  birds,  and 
take  your  time.  Now,  cut  a  good-sized  cane  from 
one  of  those  young  trees  there,  and  then  we  will  see 
what  the  dogs  have  found." 

"  What  do  you  think  they  have  ?  " 

"  Quail." 

It  seemed  to  Rob  a  long  time  before  he  got  his 
cane  cut,  and  trimmed  as  his  cousin  wanted  it. 
Then  they  stepped  up  behind  the  dogs,  and  Mr. 
Warren  said,  "  When  the  birds  get  up,  count  them 
and  take  good  aim  at  one  with  your  cane,  and  then 
tell  me  where  they  light."  There  was  a  twinkle  in 
his  eye  as  he  said  this.  "  Hie  on,"  to  the  dogs,  and 
with  what  seemed  to  Rob  a  roar,  the  air  was  ap- 
parently filled  with  a  flock  of  flying  quail.  Cousin 
Dave  glanced  at  the  boy.  He  was  staring  at  the 
flying  birds,  and  had  not  even  raised  his  stick  to  his 
shoulder.  The  well- trained  dogs  had  dropped  on 
their  bellies  when  the  birds  got  up. 

"  Make  your  report,  Rob.  First,  how  many  were 
there  ? " 

"  How  many  ?  O,  I  could  not  count  them.  They 
f  44  1 


A     S  E  P  T  E  M  B  E  II     W  A  E  K 

made  such  a  noise  when  they  got  up,  and  they  flew 
so  fast,  that  it  only  seemed  to  me  that  the  air  was 
full  of  them.  I  think  there  must  have  been  a  hun- 
dred." 

"  And  did  you  cover  one  or  two  of  them  with  your 
imitation-gun  ? "' 

"  I  don't  believe  I  raised  my  stick  at  all." 
"  But  you  saw  where  the  birds  went  ?  " 
"  Over  that  ridge  there,  and  into  that  thicket  on 
the  left." 

"  Not  so  bad.  You  forgot  to  shoot,  and  you  did 
not  count  the  birds,  but  you  marked  their  flight  very 
well.  Let  me  give  it  as  my  experience  in  quail- 
shooting,  that  the  next  necessity,  after  the  ability  to 
hit  the  birds,  is  skill  in  marking  them — that  is,  in 
locating  the  place  to  which  they  fly.  I  did  not  ex- 
pect you  to  count  them,  and  probably  would  not 
have  done  so  exactly  myself  if  we  had  had  our 
guns  (there  were  fourteen),  but  I  wanted  you  to 
mark  them.  If  the  hunter  pays  no  attention  to  the 
flock  except  to  those  which  he  has  knocked  down,  he 
will  make  a  poor  bag.  Quail  have  all  sorts  of  no- 
tions about  the  cover  they  will  seek,  and  to  go  on 
blindly,  trusting  to  luck  to  find  them  again,  some- 
[45] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

where  ahead  of  you,  means  a  loss  of  a  good  deal  of 
time  and  many  a  disappointment.  Therefore  al- 
ways try  to  keep  yom-  head  enough  to  mark  your 
birds.  If  you  have  dropped  any,  the  dog  will  look 
out  for  them." 

Without  following  up  the  birds  they  had  flushed, 
they  next  directed  their  steps  toward  a  piece  of 
young  woodland,  this  side  of  which  was  an  old 
pasture-field,  and  through  which  ran  a  brook.  In 
the  middle  of  the  field  Czar  "  made  game ""  and  be- 
gan advancing,  with  his  nose  pretty  close  to  the 
ground.  Cap,  on  the  other  hand,  ranged  off  to  one 
side,  seemingly  smelling  in  the  air. 

"  Watch  those  two  dogs,"  said  Mr.  Warren,  "  and 
you  will  have  an  illustration  of  two  ways  in  which 
a  dog  finds  game.  Czar  is  trailing  the  birds.  They 
have  been  out  there  feeding  in  the  early  morning, 
and  Czar  scents  their  tracks  on  the  ground.  Cap, 
too,  gets  the  scent,  but  trailing  is  too  slow  work  for 
him,  and  he  is  trying  to  locate  the  flock." 

"  AVhich  is  the  better  way  .? " 

"  That  depends.  I  have  known  Czar  to  trail  a 
flock  nearly  half  a  mile  and  find  them,  where  Cap 
might  have  missed  them  entirely.  On  the  other 
[46] 


A     SEPTEMBER     WALK 

hand,  Cap's  quickness  will  often  bring  him  within 
pointing  distance  of  birds  before  Czar  has  arrived 
there.  In  the  South,  where  the  fields  are  large,  and 
there  are  a  good  many  birds,  a  slow  dog  will  not  do 
at  all." 

Czar  had  now  reached  the  edge  of  the  woods,  and 
was  showing  by  his  actions  that  the  trail  was  getting 
very  warm,  when  there  was  a  rush  of  wings,  and  up 
got  the  birds  quite  out  of  gunshot. 

"  Was  that  Czar's  fault  ?  "  asked  Rob. 

"  No ;  the  birds  were  running  to  the  brook,  and 
they  simply  did  not  lie  for  him  to  point.  This 
often  happens  with  running  birds.*" 

In  the  course  of  the  forenoon  they  found  six 
flocks  of  quail,  and  Rob  so  far  mastered  his  nervous- 
ness that  he  counted  the  last  two  flocks,  and  took 
such  good  aim  at  some  of  the  birds  (by  his  own 
reckoning)  that  he  thought  they  would  certainly 
have  fallen  had  his  stick  been  a  gun. 

About  noon  they  stopped  at  a  fine  spring  and 
ate  their  Imich,  and  then  Mr.  Warren  announced 
his  intention  to  turn  toward  the  mountain,  in  the 
hope  of  showing  Rob  a  gi-ouse.  Grouse,  he  explained, 
when  they  trudged  on,  are  hatched  in  flocks,  just 
[-7  1 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

as  quail  are,  the  female  laying  from  nine  to  fifteen 
eggs.  In  the  early  autumn  the  whole  flock  is  some- 
times flushed  at  once ;  but  the  birds  soon  separate, 
and  later  it  is  usual  to  find  two  together  rather  than 
a  larger  number.  They  are  great  travellers,  and  it 
is  never  certain  where  they  will  be  found,  no  matter 
how  well  they  have  been  marked  in  the  late  summer. 
This  makes  it  necessary  for  the  grouse-hunter  to  be 
a  good  walker.  They  like  wooded  regions,  and  if 
there  is  a  swamp  in  the  midst  of  a  wood,  they  may 
be  found  near  it,  and  will  certainly  plunge  into  it 
when  flushed.  One  thing  favors  the  grouse-hunter. 
The  birds  are  pretty  straight  flyers,  and  if  the  course 
of  one  is  taken,  there  is  a  fair  chance  of  flushing  it 
again.  But  the  chase  may  be  a  long  and  tiresome 
one. 

"  Are  they  hard  to  shoot  ?  "  asked  Rob. 

"  Yes  and  no.  Yes,  because  they  are  so  often 
found  in  the  thick  cover,  and  because  they  do  not 
lie  well  to  a  dog.  Cap  would  not  be  worth  a  cent 
for  partridges,  because  he  would  not  hunt  them 
slowly  enough.  Many  partridge-hunters  say  the 
only  use  they  have  for  a  dog  is  to  find  dead  birds, 
but  I  do  not  agree  with  them.  If  Czar  crosses  a 
[48  1 


A     SEPTEMBER     WALK 

partridge's  track,  he  will  begin  to  trail,  and  if  he 
comes  to  a  fallen  tree,  he  knows  just  as  well  as  I  do 
that  the  bird  is  likely  to  be  there,  and  will  almost 
crawl  within  pointing  distance.  As  to  the  other 
side  of  my  answer,  I  should  say  that  the  partridge  is 
not  a  hard  bird  to  shoot  if  you  get  it  in  fairly  open 
ground,  because  it  is  a  large  mark,  and  it  flies 
straight.  It  does  fly  very  swiftly  and  possesses  great 
vitality,  and  many  a  hard-hit  bird  gets  away.  In 
one  respect  the  ruffed  grouse  is  very  stupid.  In  the 
big  woods,  like  the  Adirondacks,  it  is  easily  treed  by 
the  barking  of  a  dog,  and  a  whole  flock  will  some- 
times sit  in  the  branches  and  let  themselves  be 
picked  off"  one  by  one  by  a  gimner,  so  long  as  the 
dog  keeps  up  his  barking,  and  only  the  lower  birds 
are  shot  first.  If  a  bird  is  shot  from  the  hig-her 
branches,  it  seems  to  frighten  those  below  as  it  falls 
past  them.  My  theory  is  that  the  birds  there  take 
the  dog  for  their  traditional  enemy  the  fox,  and 
think  they  arc  safe  so  long  as  they  are  in  a  tree.  I 
flushed  a  flock  in  Elaine  once  with  a  red  Irish  setter 
that  did  resemble  a  fox,  and  one  of  the  birds,  sitting 
on  the  limb  of  a  young  sapling,  allowed  me  to  walk 
under  it  and  hit  it  with  the  end  of  my  gun-baiTel, 
[49] 


HOB     AND     HIS     GUN 

before  it  flew,  all  the  time  craning  its  neck  to  keep 
the  dog  in  sight."" 

"  O,  Cousin  Dave,"  said  Rob,  "  how  much  you  do 
know  about  birds." 

When  they  got  part  way  up  the  mountain-side,  a 
sound  like  a  distant  rumble  of  thunder  reached 
their  ears.  That,  Rob  was  told,  was  a  partridge 
that  had  been  frightened  by  their  footsteps.  Rob 
thought  it  must  be  a  pretty  big  bird  that  could 
make  so  much  noise  in  its  flight.  Another  and 
another  of  the  birds  made  itself  heard  but  not  seen 
as  they  proceeded,  although  they  kept  both  dogs  at 
heel.  Presently  they  came  to  an  old  wagon-track — 
hardly  a  road — through  the  woods,  and  as  they  stepped 
into  this,  Mr.  Warren  pulled  Rob  back  suddenly,  by 
a  grasp  on  his  shoulder.  "Do  you  see  that  par- 
tridge in  the  roadway  yonder  ? "  he  asked,  himself 
excited  now.  Rob  looked,  but  could  see  nothing. 
"  Right  in  the  path,  beyond  that  yellow  leaf."  No, 
Rob  could  see  no  bird. 

"  This  is  an  excellent  example  of  the  protection 

that  nature  gives  the  partridge  in  its  coloring.      It 

is  only  by  chance  that  my  eye  caught  it.      '  Charge, 

charge,'  (to  each  dog).     The  bird  sees  us  perfectly, 

[50] 


A     SEPTEMBER     WALK 

and  is  watching  us,  but  it  is  foolish  enough  to  think 
that  we  do  not  see  it.  Now  I  am  going  to  make 
you  see  it.  Do  precisely  as  I  tell  you.  You  see 
this  wagon-track  starting  by  my  foot.  Follow  it 
with  yom'  eye  until  you  come  opposite  the  chestnut- 
tree  (Rob  could  distinguish  a  good  many  trees  by 
their  leaves  or  bark  by  this  time),  on  which  some 
woodman  has  cut  a  mark.  Good.  Beyond  that 
you  see  a  rotten  stump,  just  out  of  the  road.  Yes. 
Now  look  in  the  roadway,  half-way  from  that  stump 
to  the  yellow  leaf  opposite  it.     What  do  you  see  ?  " 

"  Only  brown  leaves." 

"  Those  brown  leaves  are  the  partridge.  There, 
now,  did  you  not  see  it  turn  its  neck  ?  " 

"I  did,  I  did,"  cried  Rob.  "I  distinguish  it 
plainly  now.  How  wonderfully  it  matches  the  ground 
and  leaves." 

"  Take  a  good  look  at  it,  and  then  approach  it 
with  Czar.     You  may  get  a  point." 

But  he  did  not.  As  soon  as  the  boy  stepped  fairly 
into  the  road  the  bird  rose,  with  a  tremendous  whir- 
ring, and  was  out  of  sight. 

"  That  was  grand,"  said  Rob.     "  I  would  have 
walked  all  day  for  that  sight."" 
[51] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

"  You  were  lucky  to  get  a  sight  of  a  partridge 
sitting.  It  does  not  occm-  too  often  in  the  same 
circumstances.  But  you  may  see  one  quite  often 
later  in  the  season,  if  you  watch  in  the  old  orchard 
about  sundown.  They  come  down  there  then  to 
'  bud,'  that  is,  to  eat  the  buds  when  the  snow  covers 
up  their  own  beiTies.'*" 

It  seemed  to  Rob,  as  he  walked  home,  that,  to  be 
able  to  kill  a  partridge  on  the  wing  would  be  to 
satisfy  his  highest  ambition. 


[52] 


CHAPTER  V 

ROB'S  FIRST  DAY'S  HUNT 

NO  boy  ever  went  to  bed  with  more  eager  an- 
ticipation of  Christmas  morning  than  did 
Rob,  on  the  night  of  October  31st,  wnth  his  first  day's 
hunt  to  come  with  the  opening  of  the  season  on  the 
moiTow,  His  cousin  had  seen  that  he  was  properly 
equipped.  He  had  a  hunting-suit,  made  of  hght- 
brown  canvas,  which  would  stand  the  briars,  and 
which  was  fitted  with  big  game-pockets.  With  this 
went  a  pair  of  heavy  shoes,  the  soles  studded  with 
hob-nails,  to  prevent  his  feet  from  slipping  on  the 
rocks  and  leaves.  His  hat  was  a  soft,  felt  one,  and 
to  protect  his  hands  from  the  briars  he  was  to  wear 
a  pair  of  old  walking-gloves,  the  fingers  of  which 
had  been  cut  short. 

Rob  was  dressed  before  daybreak,  but  his  cousin 
took  his  time  in  setting  out,  saying  that  he  always 
liked  to  give  the  quail  time  to  begin  feeding  before 
[53  1 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

getting  on  the  ground,  as,  in  this  way,  there  was  a 
better  opportunity  for  the  dogs  to  scent  them. 

The  morning  was  an  ideal  one.  The  air  was 
pretty  cold,  there  was  no  wind,  and  the  sky  was  over- 
cast with  a  thin  haze.  Preceding  frosts  had  cut 
down  the  more  tender  weeds  and  shrivelled  the  leaves 
of  the  taller  ones  on  their  stalks,  and  the  rime  of 
the  night  just  past  lay  thick  on  pasture  and  stubble. 
In  the  woods  most  of  the  trees,  except  some  of  the 
oaks,  had  dropped  their  leaves,  giving  the  hunters  a 
good  view  of  any  birds  that  might  fly  up  before  them. 

Their  first  hunting-ground  was  in  the  field  where 
they  had  put  up  the  flock  in  September,  and  the 
dogs  were  "  hied  on  "  when  the  wheat  stubble  was 
reached.  This  the  dogs  ranged  without  "  making 
game."  But  as  soon  as  Cap  had  leaped  the  fence 
he  came  to  a  point. 

"  I  think  these  birds  are  lazy,"  said  Mr.  Warren. 
"They  do  not  seem  to  have  travelled  much  yet, 
and  it  was  good  luck  that  Cap  did  not  land  right  in 
the  midst  of  them." 

"  Are  you  sure  they're  there  ?  "  asked  Rob. 

"  Not  absolutely  sure,  since  Cap  may  scent  a  rab- 
bit, but  I  think  it  is  the  quail.     Now  let  us  plan  a 
[54] 


ROB     S     FIRST     DAYS     HUNT 

little.  Here  to  the  left  is  a  thick  gi'owth  of  young 
trees  which  would  make  bad  cover  for  us.  We 
w-ill,  therefore,  step  around  on  that  side  and  flush  the 
birds  ourselves,  and  they  will  probably  fly  toward 
that  weedy  field,  where  we  ought  to  have  good  sport 
with  them.      Are  you  excited  ^  " 

"  I  suppose  I  am,"  Rob  confessed. 

"  Naturally,  of  course.  Now  try  to  remember  one 
thing.  You  \vill  kill  only  the  bird  you  aim  at ;  so 
don't  make  the  mistake  of  shooting  at  the  flock.  I 
remember  well  the  proof  I  had  of  the  value  of  this 
advice  in  my  younger  days.  I  was  hunting  in  Mary- 
land, and  late  one  afternoon  four  of  our  party  met 
at  the  edge  of  a  big  swale,  and  as  we  came  up,  one 
of  the  dogs  pointed  and  the  other  three  backed  him. 
My  companion,  who  knew  the  ground  well,  said, 
*  Boys,  we  shall  get  only  the  birds  out  of  this  flock 
that  we  kiU  when  they  fly  up,  as  the  swale  in  front 
of  us  is  practically  impenetrable.'  So  each  man 
made  up  his  mind  to  kill  two  birds  as  they  rose. 
We  put  up  the  birds,  and  a  bigger  flock  I  never  saw 
flushed.  There  were,  I  remember,  two  big  oak-trees 
in  front  of  us,  about  one  hundred  feet  apart,  and 
when  those  birds  rose  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  space 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

between  these  trees  was  simply  full  of  birds.  Well, 
each  of  us  fired  his  two  barrels,  and,  crouching  to 
look  under  the  smoke  (we  were  using  black  powder), 
I  could  not  see  a  bird  fall.  '  How  many  did  we  get  ? ' 
asked  my  companion.  '  Not  a  bird,**  said  the  man 
on  the  right,  who  had  the  best  view.  And  not  a 
bird  it  was.  Then  each  of  us  confessed  that  the  air 
seemed  so  full  of  birds  that  he  had  simply  fired  at 
the  flock.  I  have  never  understood  yet  how  every 
bird  escaped  that  rain  of  shot,  but  I  have  never  for- 
gotten the  lesson." 

Mr.  Warren  had  gone  into  these  details  of  his 
story  with  a  purpose,  desiring  to  allow  Rob  to  rid 
himself  of  the  first  nervousness  caused  by  the  dis- 
covery of  the  game.  "  Now,"  said  he,  "  we  will 
put  up  the  birds.     Be  sure  to  mark  their  flight." 

At  the  word  "  Go  on.  Cap,"  the  dog  moved  for- 
ward, and  a  fine  flock  of  quail  rose.  "  Bang,  bang," 
went  RoVs  gun.  "  Too  quick,"  said  his  cousin, 
who,  taking  his  time,  fired  at  two  of  the  hind  birds, 
both  of  which  fell. 

"  Didn't  I  kill  any  ?"  asked  Rob. 

"  Not  a  feather.  You  shot  too  quick,  and  you 
did  not  aim.  I  know  just  how  you  felt.  You 
[56] 


ROBS     FIRST     DAYS     HUNT 

thought  the  birds  were  getting  away  from  you,  and 
yet  I  had  time  to  kill  two  after  you  had  fired  both 
baiTels.  But  you  need  not  mind  that.  Some 
really  good  shots  get  rattled  when  a  flock  rises, 
and  fill  their  bags  from  the  scattered  birds.  You 
saw  where  they  went  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  remembered  that  ad\ice.  Most  of  them 
went  straight  ahead." 

The  dogs  were  sent  forward  to  retrieve  the  two 
dead  birds,  and  then  they  went  on  after  the  rest. 
On  the  way  Mr.  Warren  explained  that  it  was  not 
well  to  follow  up  a  scattered  flock  too  rapidly.  Some 
persons,  he  said,  had  a  theory  that  birds  could 
"  withhold  their  scent."  He  did  not  beheve  this, 
but  thought  that  when  a  dog  did  not  scent  a  re- 
cently flushed  bird  it  was  because  that  bird  had 
simply  dropped  down  and  remained  stationar}',  with 
folded  wings,  thus  not  actually  "  withholding "  its 
scent,  but  not  giving  out  any.  The  field  toward 
which  the  birds  had  flowni  was  good  cover,  with  a 
rank  growth  of  ragweed,  and  when  Tass,  the  other 
dog  they  had  with  them,  reached  the  centre  of  the 
field,  she  pointed,  and  Cap  did  the  same  to  her 
right. 

[57] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

"  There  are  two  of  the  birds,"  said  Mr.  Warren. 
"  You  go  over  and  shoot  the  one  in  front  of  yoiir 
dog,  and  I  will  try  for  the  one  that  Tass  is  point- 
ing. Take  it  easy.  You  can  depend  on  your 
dog." 

Rob  kept  telling  himself,  as  he  went  along,  that 
he  would  "  keep  perfectly  cool,"  and  he  stopped  a 
moment  before  giving  Cap  the  order  to  flush  the 
bird.  When  he  did  so,  and  the  bird  rose,  he  "  kept 
his  head,"  and,  as  the  bird  flew  directly  from  him, 
he  did  cover  it,  and  at  the  sound  of  the  gun  down 
went  the  quail. 

"  Good  enough,"  shouted  his  cousin  ;  "  now  step 
back  a  little  till  I  shoot." 

Mr.  Warren  brought  down  his  bird,  and  the 
dogs,  after  retrieving,  were  sent  forward  to  find  the 
rest.  RoVs  good  shot  had  given  him  confidence, 
and  he  killed  one  more  of  three  birds  at  which  he 
shot,  a  very  good  average,  he  was  assured,  for  a  boy 
with  his  experience.  When  they  had  killed  eight 
of  these  birds  Mr.  Warren  proposed  to  leave  the 
rest,  as  he  did  not  believe  in  killing  off"  a  whole 
flock,  as  perhaps,  in  such  open  cover,  they  might 
have  done. 

(58  J 


rob's    first    day   s    hunt 

Their  course  next  brought  them  to  an  upland 
"cut-off" — a  new  growth  where  the  trees  had  been 
cut  in  recent  years — and  that,  Mr.  Warren  re- 
marked, was  a  likely  place  for  fall  woodcock.  The 
October  full  moon  had  come  early  that  year,  and 
the  weather  had  been  warm,  and  for  these  reasons 
the  October  flight  of  woodcock  had  been  a  disap- 
pointment, and  Mr.  Wan-en  thought  it  not  at  all 
unlikely  that  they  would  find  some  of  the  birds  that 
day.  As  soon  as  they  entered  the  "  cut-off,""  Tass 
made  game,  and  pointed  very  quickly. 

"  Probably  a  woodcock,"  said  Mr.  Wan-en.  "  The 
brush  here  is  a  little  thick,  and  I  think  I  will  try 
for  this  bird  while  you  observe  me.  Take  note  of 
its  manner  of  flight.  There  will  be  no  whir,  as  with 
a  quail,  but  tlie  bird  will  spring  upward,  and  then 
direct  its  flight  as  it  may  see  fit.  Woodcock  do 
not  make  a  long  flight,  but  in  bad  cover  it  is 
often  puzzling  to  locate  them,  as  they  twist  and 
turn,  and  then  literally  flop  down  where  they 
please."" 

'^The  bird,  when  flushed,  was  indeed  a  woodcock, 
and  Mr.  Warren  dropped   it  easily,  after  letting  it 
get  far  enough  away  to  escape  being  torn  by  the 
[59  1 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

shot.  When  told  to  "  go  fetch,"  Tass  started  for- 
ward, but  before  coming  to  the  dead  bird  she 
pointed  again. 

"  Another  cock,  upon  my  word,"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Warren.  "  I  do  believe  there  has  been  a  flight  dur- 
ing the  night.  It  is  fairly  open  there.  Try  your 
luck,  Rob.  Don't  shoot  until  the  bird  has  started 
off  horizontally." 

Rob  walked  up  to  the  dog,  and  the  bird,  which 
was  lying  almost  mider  her  nose,  took  flight.  Bang 
went  RoVs  gun,  the  warning  against  haste  being 
forgotten,  and  on  went  the  bird.  But  it  did  not 
go  far.  Cousin  Dave's  gun  sounded,  and  it  dropped 
within  easy  gunshot. 

"  Now,  Rob,  you  have  let  me  do  what  in  shooters' 
parlance  is  called  '  wipe  yom'  nose.""  That  means  kill 
the  bird  after  you  had  missed  it.  I  saw  it  M^as  too 
fine  a  bird  to  lose,  and  you  left  me  plenty  of  time 
to  shoot  after  you." 

"  I  knew  I  shot  too  quickly  as  soon  as  my  gun 
went  off",  but  in  this  brush  I  felt  as  if  the  bird  would 
get  away." 

"Practice    and    experience    will    overcome    that. 
Look   at   Cap,  he   has   been   pointing  behind   that 
[60] 


R  O  B  '  S     FIRST     DAY    S     HUNT 

clump  while  we  have  been  talking.     It  is  open  there  ; 
try  again." 

This  time  Rob  took  pains,  firing  as  the  bird  (an- 
other woodcock)  tm-ned,  and  he  dropped  it  nicely. 

"  Only  to  think,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  have  killed 
two  quail  and  a  woodcock  before  ten  o'clock.  I  do 
wish  father  could  be  with  us." 

"  So  do  I,  and  I  am  not  sm-e  that  he  woiild  do  as 
well  as  his  son." 

They  got  five  woodcock  in  all  in  that  "cut-off,"  and 
Rob  had  to  stop  and  lay  them  all  on  the  grass  and 
admire  their  beautiful  color,  and  wonder  at  the 
length  of  their  bills.  When  his  cousin  told  him  that 
some  of  the  snipe  family,  to  which  this  bird  belongs, 
have  bills  twice  as  long,  Rob  thought  these  bills  must 
be  very  much  in  the  birds'  way. 

Near  the  other  side  of  the  "  cut-off"  was  a  pile  of 
brush,  which  Mr.  Wan-en  said  looked  like  a  good 
place  for  a  rabbit's  resting-place,  and  he  suggested 
that  Rob  give  it  a  kick.  With  his  gun  ready,  Rob 
did  so,  and  out  went  a  rabbit  at  the  first  jar. 
"  Easy,  easy,"  called  Mr.  Wan-en  ;  "  he  is  going 
slow.  Aim  at  his  head."  Rob  was  careful  with  his 
aim,  and  he  knocked  the  rabbit  over  very  neatly, 
[61] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

receiving  praise  from  his  cousin  for  the  shot.  Cup 
was  just  as  wilhng  to  retrieve  the  rabbit  as  to  fetch 
a  bird,  and  when  Rob  had  it  in  hand  his  cousin 
laughingly  said,  "  Now  do  you  know  what  you  are 
in  for?"  "What? "asked  Rob.  "Lugging  that 
weight  all  the  rest  of  the  day."  Rob  declared  that 
he  did  not  mind  this  in  the  least,  but  he  found  the 
rabbit  rather  awkward  to  get  into  his  game-pocket, 
and,  before  the  day  Avas  over,  he  agreed  that  it  would 
be  a  good  plan  to  kill  one's  rabbits  on  the  way 
home. 

The  next  field  they  hunted  proved  to  be  a  disap- 
pointment, no  birds  being  found  ;  but  half  a  mile 
farther  the  dogs  pointed.  WTien  the  birds — they 
were  quail — rose,  Mr.  Warren  killed  with  his  right 
barrel  and  missed  with  his  left,  and  Rob  succeeded 
in  firing  only  once,  and  that  without  effect.  The 
birds  disappeared  over  a  ridge,  and  they  had  only 
their  general  direction  to  assist  in  finding  them 
again.  And  they  did  not  find  them.  As  is  not  in- 
frequently the  case  with  quail,  they  had  turned  in  their 
flight,  and  lit  just  where  their  pursuers  did  not  look. 
The  hunters  sat  down  on  a  fence,  and  Mr.  Warren 
tried  the  experiment  of  calling  the  birds,  but  this, 
[62] 


ROB    S     FIRST     DAY     S     HUNT 

too,  was  a  failui-e.  It  gave  him  an  opportunity, 
however,  to  explain  to  Rob  that  the  quail  changes 
its  call  in  the  autumn,  and  instead  of  whistlinp; 
"  bob  white "  gives  out  a  note  which  the  fanners"' 
boys  sometimes  translate  into  "  bu-u-ckwheat." 
"WTien  a  flock  that  has  been  scattered  cannot  be 
found  by  the  dogs,  the  hunter  sometimes,  by  whist- 
ling this  call,  can  get  a  reply,  and  thus  find  out 
what  direction  the  birds  have  taken.  But  these 
birds  had  either  flown  out  of  reach  of  the  call  or  re- 
fused to  be  deceived  by  it.  So  finally  they  were 
given  up. 

"  It  is  nearly  noon,"  said  Mr.  WaiTen,  "  and  I 
am  himgry.  Let  us  go  to  the  head  of  the  gully  you 
see  over  there,  where  there  is  a  fine  spring,  and  eat 
our  limch." 

This  was  entirely  to  Rob's  inclination,  but  the 
lunch  was  delayed  a  little.  The  gully  before  them 
was  fringed  with  a  young  gi'owth  of  trees,  including 
some  white  birches,  and  when  the  dogs  were  sent  into 
tliis  growth  both  at  once  pointed.  Rob  was  sent 
ahead  to  get  the  shot,  and  he  flushed  another  wood- 
cock. Tlie  bird  flew  directly  over  his  head,  and 
tui'ned  to  seek  cover  in  the  gully,  and  as  it  did  so 
[63] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

Mr.  Warren  cried,  "  Now  is  your  chance,"  and  Rob 
fired  and  down  came  the  bird.  He  was  again 
warmly  praised  for  the  shot. 

Then  they  witnessed  a  wonderful  piece  of  dog- 
work.  Tass  had  seen  the  bird  fall,  and  she  was 
given  the  command  to  fetch  it.  With  the  bird  in 
her  mouth  she  was  coming  back,  when  suddenly  her 
neck  bent  to  one  side,  and  she  pointed  as  stiffly  as 
could  be. 

"Look  at  that,  Rob.  I  never  saw  that  done  but 
once  before.  Tass  is  pointing  a  live  bird  with  a 
dead  one  in  her  mouth." 

"  Would  you  think  it  possible  for  her  to  distin- 
guish the  second  bird  with  the  other  one  mider  her 
nose  r 

"No,  it  is  very  wonderful.  My  theory  is  that 
she  distinguishes  the  fresh  scent  in  some  way  from 
the  scent  of  the  dead  bird.  But  that  is  all  conject- 
m*e.  How  many  things  dogs  could  tell  us  if  only 
they  could  talk." 

The  second  bird  came  out  near  Mr.  Warren  and 
fell  when  he  fired. 

Before  they  got  to  the  spring  Tass  pointed  again, 
and  on  Mr.  Warren  stepping  up  to  her,  two  wood- 
[64] 


ROB's    FIRST     day's     HUNT 

cock  flew  up  at  once,  one  going  straight  ahead  and 
one  to  the  right.  As  both  barrels  of  Mr.  Wan-en's 
gun  sounded,  the  two  birds  dropped. 

"O,  Cousin  Dave,"  said  Rob.  "^Vhat  a  won- 
derful shot  you  are.  I  never  shall  be  able  to  do 
that." 

"  Not  a  wonderful  shot  for  a  man  of  my  experi- 
ence, Rob,  and  at  woodcock.  When  you  have  killed 
a  partridge  with  each  barrel,  both  rising  at  once,  and 
each  going  in  the  opposite  direction,  you  may  do  a 
little  boasting." 

No  more  birds  intennipted  their  walk  to  the  spring, 
and  they  found  a  mossy  seat  and  took  out  their  par- 
cels of  sandwiches,  and  enjoyed  their  luncheon. 
"  Take  plenty  of  time,"  said  Cousin  Dave,  who  was 
constitutionally  opposed  to  depriving  himself  of  any 
of  the  pleasm-e  of  a  meal.  "  Hunters  who  huny  at 
lunch  are  sure  to  get  tired  out,  and  a  tired-out  man 
can  never  shoot  well."  When  their  repast  was 
finished,  while  Cousin  Dave  enjoyed  his  pipe,  Rob 
had  to  take  his  game  out  of  his  pockets  and  again 
admire  the  plumpness  and  plumage  of  the  birds  and 
the  size  of  the  rabbit.  He  declared  that  the  latter 
had  not  yet  increased  in  weight,  and  that  he  was 
[65] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

willing  to  carry  two  or  three  more  if  he  could  shoot 
them. 

When  they  were  ready  to  start,  Mr.  Warren  asked 
Rob  if  he  would  prefer  to  look  for  more  quail,  or  to 
walk  a  mile  to  the  mountain  and  ascend  it,  with 
the  hope  of  getting  some  shots  at  partridges.  "  We 
have,"  said  he,  "  now  in  our  pockets  nine  quail  and 
nine  woodcock — a  very  good  morning''s  work.  So, 
if  you  like,  we  can  take  our  chances  with  the  par- 
tridges ;  but  I  tell  you  in  advance  that  the  result  is 
very  uncertain." 

Rob  thought  it  would  be  a  grand  achievement  to 
round  out  their  day  with  a  couple  of  the  bigger 
birds,  and  so  off  they  started  for  the  higher  wooded 
ground.  As  they  walked  along,  Rob  asked  if  his 
cousin  often  got  so  great  a  variety  of  game  in  one 
day.  He  was  told  that  this  could  not  be  counted 
on,  as,  later  in  the  season,  they  would  find  no  wood- 
cock, and  might  not  hunt  where  the  partridges  kept. 
"  I  had  a  peculiar  experience  in  the  way  of  variety  a 
number  of  years  ago,  when  I  was  hunting  in  another 
part  of  this  State.  We  were  approaching  a  sharp 
precipice  of  sheer  rock,  that  rose  some  two  hundred 
feet  in  height.  A  few  hundred  yards  from  its  top 
[66] 


ROB    S     FIRST     DAY    S     HUNT 

I  kicked  out  a  rabbit,  and  before  I  had  shot,  the 
rabbit  ran  plump  into  a  small  flock  of  quail.  I 
killed  one  of  these,  and  then  got  the  rabbit,  which 
could  not  go  far  because  of  the  precipice  in  front, 
and  came  back  to  give  me  an  easy  shot.  I  lined  the 
quail,  and  we  (there  were  two  of  us)  climbed  down  the 
face  of  the  rock  as  best  we  could  to  pursue  them. 
Just  as  I  reached  the  bottom,  my  dog  pointed  and 
so  did  my  fiiend's.  "\Mien  we  started  the  dogs  on, 
a  woodcock  got  up  in  front  of  mine  and  a  partridge 
in  front  of  the  other.  I  killed  the  cock,  and,  as  the 
other  bird  tried  to  get  right  up  to  the  top  of  the 
rock,  it  made  a  beautiful  target  for  the  other  gun. 
I  can  see  it  yet  as  it  spread  its  wings  and  tail,  when 
hit,  and  settled  gracefully  to  the  ground.  Here, 
then,  we  had  killed  a  quail,  a  rabbit,  a  woodcock, 
and  a  partridge,  all  within  the  space  of  twenty  min- 
utes, and  all  within  less  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of 
one  another." 

"When  they  got  pretty  w^ell  up  the  mountain-side, 
Cap  was  called  to  heel,  and  Tass  was  constantly  ad- 
monished by  her  master  to  go  slowly.  There  were 
still  leaves  on  some  of  the  trees,  especiallv  the  oaks, 
and  the  leaves  on  the  ground  were  dry,  making  the 
[67] 


ROB     AND     HIS      GUN 

walking  noisy,  all  of  which  was  in  favor  of  the  birds 
and  against  the  hunters.  Coming  to  a  growth  of 
laurels,  Tass  made  game,  and  Cap  was  allowed  to  go 
forward  a  little.  He  at  once  threw  his  nose  into 
the  air,  and  wheeling  to  the  left,  pointed  toward  a 
laurel-bush.  "  I  believe  your  dog  has  found  the  first 
bird,"  said  his  cousin  to  Rob.  "  Will  you  try  for 
it?" 

"  What  do  you  advise  ?  "  asked  Rob. 

"  We  will  both  walk  up  toward  it.  If  it  lies  and 
gives  a  good  shot,  I  will  wait  for  you  to  shoot  first, 
but  if  it  does  not,  I  will  see  what  I  can  do.  We 
want  one  partridge  at  least  to  make  up  our  variety." 

The  bird  did  not  lie  well,  rising  with  a  roar,  as  it 
seemed  to  Rob,  as  soon  as  they  advanced,  and  disap- 
pearing behind  the  bushes  just  as  Mr.  Warren's  gun 
somided.  "  I  guess  you  missed  him.  Cousin  Dave," 
said  Rob.      "  He  went  right  on." 

"  Did  you  see  him  after  he  turned  the  bushes  .'' " 

«No." 

"  Then  he  may  be  our  bird  yet.  It  was  almost  a 
snap-shot,  but  I  had  the  gun  well  on  him.  Tass, 
fetch  dead." 

The  dog  rushed  through  the  laurel  growth,  and 
[68] 


rob's    first    day   s    hunt 

disappeared  in  the  brush  beyond.  In  a  few  moments 
they  heard  her  footsteps  on  the  leaves,  and  when 
thev  got  sight  of  her  she  had  the  bird  in  her  mouth, 
looking  as  proud  as  if  she  herself  had  shot  it. 

"  ^Yheit  a  wonderful  dog,"  cried  Rob.  "  Did  she 
see  the  bird  fall  ?  " 

"No,  but  she  saw  the  direction  in  which  it  went, and 
followed  that  direction  until  she  found  it  lying  dead. 
If  you  will  heft  the  bird  you  will  see  how  heavy  it  is, 
and  will  understand  how  easily  a  partridge,  even 
when  hard  hit,  can  fly  a  long  distance,'" 

Rob  admired  the  fine  bird,  smoothing  its  feathers, 
and  saying  that  to  kiH  such  a  one  would  be  the 
height  of  his  ambition. 

CalHng  Cap  to  heel  again,  they  continued  their 
walk,  Mr.  Wairen  giving  Rob  some  instruction 
about  partridge-shooting  as  they  walked.  "  You 
will  read  in  books  and  in  sporting  papers  a  good 
deal  about  the  necessity  of  aiming  well  ahead  of  a 
partridge  if  it  flies  crosswise  from  you.  Of  course 
the  bird  is  going  very  fast,  and  it  requires  an 
appreciable  time  for  the  shot  to  get  where  the  bird 
is  after  the  firing  of  the  gun.  But  it  is  my  expe- 
rience that  I  am  never  conscious  of  aiming  ahead 
[69  1 


HOB     AND     HIS     GUN 

of  the  bird.  It  is  a  matter  of  practice  to  know 
when  to  fire  and  where  to  aim,  and,  as  the  gun  is 
being  swung  along  in  the  same  direction  that  the 
bird  is  flying,  the  muzzle  is  naturally  carried  some- 
what in  advance.  You  must  simply  '  cover '  the 
bird,  and  this  means  only  that  you  must  aim  where 
the  shot  will  tell.  I  do  that  intuitively.  Doubtless, 
I  should  kill  sometimes  when  I  miss  if  the  gun  was 
pointed  farther  in  advance ;  but  you  know  that  we 
miss  clay  birds  from  the  trap,  where  no  such  nice 
calculation  is  needed,  and  this  shows  that  the  most 
careful  aim  is  sometimes  unsuccessful.  You  have  to 
take  a  good  many  snap-shots  at  partridges,  that  is, 
shots  fired  without  deliberate  aim.  There  is  not 
time  to  aim  carefully  before  the  bird  will  disappear 
behind  some  cover,  and  you  fire,  trusting  to  luck  to 
kill.  Some  men  seem  to  be  natural  snap-shots,  and 
it  is  surprising  how  often  they  wull  make  such  shots 
tell.  Hark  !  there  went  up  a  partridge,  and  there 
goes  another." 

They  had  now-  reached  the  top  of  a  ridge,  beyond 

which  was  a  more  open  growth,  and  Rob  was  told  to 

have  his  gun  in  readiness,  as  a  bird  was  likely  to  get 

up  at  any  moment.    Tass  was  moving  on  to  the  left  of 

[70] 


ROB     S     FIRST     DAY    S     HUNT 

them  when  a  partridge  rose  almost  at  Rob's  feet. 
"  Take  your  time,"  called  his  cousin,  and  Rob  fired, 
to  see  quite  a  pufF  of  feathers  leave  the  bird.  "  Good 
shot,  if  you  didn"'t  down  him,""  said  Mr.  Warren. 
"  That  was  the  time  when  you  aimed  a  little  too  far 
behind." 

"  Do  you  think  the  dog  would  be  able  to  find 
it  ?  " 

"  No,  it  was  not  hit  in  the  body.  But  we  may 
put  it  up  again.  Sometimes  a  bird  thus  hit  will  lie 
harder." 

Following  up  the  direction  of  this  bird,  Tass 
pointed  toward  a  fallen  tree-top.  "  That's  probably 
your  bird,  Rob.  Walk  up  to  the  right  of  the  tree- 
top."  But  Rob  was  not  fortunate.  The  bird  went 
out  the  other  side,  and  fell  before  Mr.  Warren's 
gun.  "  Sorry,  Rob,"  said  he,  "  but  such  is  the 
fortune  of  bird-war." 

They  now  tm*ned  their  steps  toward  home,  as  it 
was  getting  late,  and  Rob  got  no  other  shot  at  par- 
tridges that  day.  But  he  did  kill  one  more  quail, 
and  Mr.  Warren  got  three,  so  that  they  went  home 
with  thirteen  quail,  nine  woodcock,  and  two  par- 
tridges. His  cousin  told  him  that  they  could  by  no 
[71  ] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

means  always  count  on  making  so  good  a  bag,  no 
matter  how  well  they  shot,  and  assured  him  that  he 
had  done  himself  credit  in  the  part  he  had  taken  in 
securing  the  game. 

Rob  declared  to  his  Cousin  Annie  that  he  was  not 
very  tired,  but  he  was  sound  asleep  a  few  minutes 
after  supper,  curled  up  on  the  lounge,  and  he  did 
confess  the  next  day  that  his  legs  were  a  little 
sore. 


[72] 


CHAPTER  VI 

SHOOTING  BAY-SNIPE 

ROB  made  a  long  visit  at  home  that  winter,  and 
while  there  his  future  plans  were  carefully 
discussed  by  his  parents.  He  himself  declared  that 
he  liked  country  life,  and  expressed  a  wish  to  spend 
at  least  another  year  at  the  farm.  It  was  finally 
decided  that  he  should  do  so,  as  he  was  gro\ving 
strong  and  ruddy,  and  was  young  enough  to  take  up 
a  business  pursuit  later,  if  he  should  not  make  the 
country  his  permanent  home.  His  cousin  had  a 
good  library,  and  he  began  a  course  of  reading 
during  the  winter,  and  earned  on  some  of  his  studies 
with  his  cousin's  help.  For  Cousin  Dave  was  as 
good  a  mathematician  as  he  was  a  shot,  and  more 
than  one  puzzle  in  algebra  that  Rob  could  not  solve 
was  unravelled  with  his  cousin''s  aid. 

Mr.     Warren     had    a    good    many    books    on 
the   subject  of  hunting,  and  Rob  found  them   in- 
[73] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

tensely  interesting.  One  evening  in  the  following 
spring,  as  he  was  reading  one  of  them,  he  asked, 
"  Cousin  Dave,  what  are  bay-snipe  ?  " 

"  Members  of  the  family  scolopacidae.'''' 

"That  might  satisfy  a  young  Roman,  but  just 
what  are  they  to  a  young  American  ?  " 

"  Well,  in  United  States  language,  they  are  a 
large  membership  of  the  snipe  family,  which  breed 
in  the  North  and  begin  their  migration  in  the  early 
summer,  continuing  it  until  late  in  the  autumn. 
Youi'  geography  will  show  you  that  a  large  part  of 
om*  Atlantic  coast  is  separated  from  the  ocean  by  a 
series  of  bays  divided  in  turn  from  the  ocean  by  nar- 
row strips  of  sandy  beach.  These  bays  and  adja- 
cent islands  are  favorite  feeding-places  for  such  snipe, 
and  in  the  East  the  birds  have  obtained  the  name 
*  bay-snipe.'  But  they  are  an  inland  bird,  too,  and 
perhaps  as  many  lay  their  course  south  by  way  of  the 
Western  plains  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  so  still 
farther  South,  as  by  way  of  our  coast.  And,  by  the 
by,  I  have  been  thinking  of  taking  you  to  the 
coast  for  a  snipe-shoot  this  summer,  if  you  would 
like  to  go." 

Rob  was,  of  coiu'se,  delighted,  and  began  to  read 
[74] 


SHOOTING     BAY-SNIPE 

with  interest  a  book  on  this  kind  of  shooting,  which 
his  cousin  pointed  out  to  him. 

So  it  happened  that  one  evening,  early  in  August, 
the  two  sportsmen  found  themselves  at  the  depot  of 
a  little  village  near  the  east  end  of  Shinnecock  Bay, 
on  the  south  shore  of  Long  Island,  where  a  rather 
dilapidated  horse  and  wagon  met  them,  and  conveyed 
them  to  the  house  of  the  bayman  who  was  to  attend 
them  in  their  shooting.  Rob  found  John,  the  bay- 
man,  a  very  interesting  character,  and  learned  on 
better  acquaintance  that  he  was  a  synonym  of  good- 
natm-e,  and  an  expert  in  the  ways  of  bay-snipe. 

"  What  time  do  we  start  out  in  the  morning  ?  ^ 
Rob  asked,  after  they  had  had  their  supper,  and  he 
had  been  listening  to  a  discussion  of  the  chances  of 
sport  between  John  and  his  cousin. 

"  Well,"  drawled  John,  "  the  wind's  bin  east  fur 
four  days,  and  I  cal'late  it  will  blow  south  to-morrow, 
and  if  it  does,  there  ought  to  be  birds.  So  well  be 
about  pretty  spry.  It  is  sun-up  at  five,  so  I  guess 
mother  will  have  breakfast  at  half-past  three,  and 
we'll  be  gettin'  across  the  bay  half  an  hour  later. 
There's  a  lot  o'  folks  after  snipe,  and  I  don't  propose 
to  let  them  get  all  the  good  places." 
[75] 


KOB     AND     HIS     GUN 

Rob  had  many  c^uestions  to  ask,  and  he  learned 
from  John's  answers  that  the  snipe  generally  flew 
against  the  wind,  and  that  a  flight  was,  therefore, 
looked  for  when  the  wind  blew  up  the  coast  from  the 
south  or  southwest.  John  explained  that  a  good 
shooting-place  was  a  little  projection  on  the  bay  side 
of  the  beach,  with  shoal  water  in  front,  in  which  to 
place  their  "  stools "  (decoy  birds  made  of  wood), 
where  they  would  be  most  likely  to  attract  the  eye 
of  the  live  birds. 

It  seemed  to  Rob  that  he  had  just  fallen  asleep 
when  he  was  aroused  by  John's  cheery  cry  of  "  Break- 
fast,"" but  he  was  soon  dressed  and  doing  his  part  in 
disposing  of  a  goodly  supply  of  ham  and  eggs  and 
corn-bread.  Then  they  made  their  way  to  a  little 
creek  nearby,  in  which  lay  John's  sail-boat,  and  were 
soon  being  poled  to  the  bay  by  John,  as  the  wind 
was  light  and  contrary,  and  the  creek  narrow.  Once 
on  the  broader  water  John  hoisted  the  sail,  and  with 
more  wind  they  made  fair  progress  across  the  bay. 

Rob  found  the  sail  a  very  interesting   one,  as  he 

was  new  to  bay  scenery.      In  the  dim  light  he  could 

just  distinguish  the  low-lying  beach  on   the  ocean 

side,  and  the  higher  ground  of  the  mainland,  and 

[76  1 


SHOOTING     BAY -SNIPE 

before  them  twinkled  the  bright  eye  of  the  hght- 
house  that  stands  on  a  projection  of  the  Long  Island 
coast.  Presently  he  heard  in  the  air  above  a  re- 
peated "  quawk,  quawk,"  made  by  some  bird  on  the 
move.  "  Is  that  a  snipe  'i  "  he  asked.  "  No,"  replied 
John,  "  thafs  a  quawk."  His  cousin  further  ex- 
plained that  this  is  a  name  given  to  the  bird  some- 
times on  account  of  its  cry,  but  that  its  real  name 
is  night  heron,  and  that  it  is  over  two  feet  long, 
and  the  female  has  long  white  plumes  growing  from 
the  top  of  the  head.  It  is  not  a  table-bird,  and  i.-; 
more  frequently  heard  than  seen,  since  it  feeds  at  night: 
on  the  marshes,  retiring  to  wooded  swamps  by  day. 

As  it  grew  lighter  they  saw  that  only  one  boat 
was  ahead  of  them  going  in  their  direction,  and  John 
said  he  would  have  no  trouble  to  secure  the  shooting- 
ground  he  had  in  view,  and  in  another  half-hour 
they  arrived  there. 

Sailing  as  close  to  the  shore  as  they  could,  John 
threw  overboard  a  light  anchor  and  said,  "  Now, 
gentlemen,  we  must  do  some  wading."  All  wore 
rubber-boots,  and  Rob  and  his  cousin  waded  ashore, 
while  John  put  out  the  stools.  Rob  watched  this 
business  with  much  interest.  There  were  between 
[77  1 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

forty  and  fifty  of  the  stools,  representing  different 
varieties  of  the  snipe,  and  all  of  wood,  although  his 
cousin  told  him  that  tin  ones  were  a  good  deal  used. 
Into  the  bottom  of  each  of  these  stools  John  inserted 
a  stick  about  two  feet  long,  and  these  sticks  were 
then  thrust  into  the  mud,  about  thirty  yards  from 
the  edge  of  the  shore  where  they  were  to  shoot,  and 
so  disposed  as  to  resemble  as  closely  as  possible  a 
flock  of  real  snipe.  This  done  to  his  satisfaction, 
John  poled  the  sail-boat  away  for  a  distance  of  a 
quarter  of  a  mile,  in  order  that  it  might  not  frighten 
the  birds,  and  came  back  in  a  small  row-boat  which 
he  easily  disposed  of  in  the  grass. 

While  he  was  gone,  Mr.  Warren  and  Rob  had 
been  cutting  a  bunch  of  branches  from  a  growth  of 
bushes  nearby,  with  which  to  make  their  "  blind." 
These  branches  were  stuck  into  the  soft  ground,  op- 
posite the  stools,  arranged  so  as  to  resemble  a  natural 
clump  of  bushes,  and  to  conceal  the  men  behind  them 
when  they  sat.  Inside  the  blind  two  mbber  blank- 
ets were  laid  down,  and  each  shooter  then  took  his 
seat,  with  his  gun  at  hand  and  a  box  containing  his 
cartridges  by  his  side.  Cousin  Dave  lighted  his 
pipe  and,  stretching  himself  out,  declared  that  he 
[78] 


SHOOTING     B  A  Y  -  S  N I  P  E 

was  perfectly  happy,  whether  the  birds  came  or  not. 
"  Snipe-shooting  is  a  lazy  man's  sport,"  said  he,  "  and 
it  grows  on  a  man  as  he  gets  older.  The  famous 
Gov.  Dix  had  a  country  place  not  many  miles  from 
here,  and  he  spent  many  houi-s  of  his  later  days  in 
his  snipe-blind."" 

"  Yes,"  said  John,  "  he  had  a  wooden  seat  in  his 
blind,  with  a  back,  and  they  do  say  he  killed  a  power 
of  snipe." 

It  was  daylight  now,  and  Rob  was  just  going  to 
ask  when  the  first  snipe  would  probably  come 
along,  when  John  sat  up  and  began  to  whistle. 
He  did  not  whistle  a  tune,  but  something  that 
went  like  "  f-e-w,  few,  few,"  repeated  many  times. 
Rob  had  read  that  the  hunter  whistled  to  the 
snipe,  but  he  had  no  idea  just  how  this  was 
done.  Mr.  Wan*en  explained  that  John's  trained 
and  acute  ear  had  distinguished  the  whistle  of  a 
snipe  up  the  bay,  and  he  was  trying  to  attract  it. 
Now  Rob  distinctly  heard  the  answering  call,  and 
soon  his  cousin  directed  his  attention  to  a  flock  of 
more  than  a  dozen  birds  that  were  making  their  way 
down  the  bay. 

John  kept  "  talking "  to  them,  varying  his  note 
[79  1 


ROB    AND     HIS     GUN 

with  his  acquired  skill  to  represent  different  notes  of 
the  real  birds,  and  the  latter  soon  turned  their  course, 
and  came  directly  for  the  stools. 

"  Now,  Hob,  we  are  going  to  get  a  shot,  and  you 
must  remember  the  first  axiom  of  bay-shooting, 
whether  it  is  at  snipes  or  ducks,  and  that  is  that  the 
distance  over  water  is  mighty  deceptive.  Don't  fire 
till  I  say  '  shoot,'  and  then  aim  right  at  the  birds' 
beaks.     They  will  swing  up  against  the  wind." 

Rob  peered  with  excited  interest  at  the  approach- 
ing birds  through  a  little  opening  in  the  blind,  and 
it  did  seem  to  him  that  they  were  near  enough  long 
before  his  cousin  gave  the  word,  and  when  this  was 
given  he  saw  only  a  confused  collection  of  legs  and 
wings.  "  Take  the  forward  birds.  Fire,"  said  Mr. 
Warren.  Rob  got  two  birds  with  his  first  barrel, 
l)ut  missed  with  his  second,  and  Mr.  Warren  got  one 
with  each. 

John,  who  was  not  supposed  to  do  much  shooting, 
cried  "  down  "  to  Rob,  who  started  to  rise  to  his 
feet,  and  kept  on  whistling,  and  the  remaining  birds, 
after  flying  off  a  short  distance,  tm-ned  again  to  the 
stools  and  gave  them  another  shot.  This  time  Rob 
killed  one  with  each  bari'el,  and  Mr.  Warren  got  his 
[80] 


SHOOTING     BAY -SNIPE 

shot  into  a  bunch  of  four,  killing  all  of  them  and 
dropping  another  with  his  second  ban-el.  The  rest 
flew  away. 

"  Pretty  good  shootin',"  said  John.  "  The  boy 
handles  his  gun  right  well." 

"  Of  course.  I  taught  him,"  laughed  Cousin 
Dave. 

"  O,  that  accounts  for  it,  does  it?"  rephed  John. 
"  I  thought  it  was  the  gentle  way  I  called  'em  in." 

Rob  was  allowed  to  wade  out  and  gather  up  the 
birds.  As  he  did  not  identify  them  from  the  pict- 
m-es  he  had  seen,  he  was  told  that  they  were  httle 
yellow  legs  (called  also  lesser  tell-tales  in  the 
books).  They  were  about  as  big  as  a  robin,  with 
ashy-brown  feathers  and  a  bill  of  two  inches.  He 
thought  they  did  not  compare  \vith  the  upland  birds 
which  he  had  shot  the  autumn  before,  but  he  was 
gi-eatly  interested  in  the  manner  of  calling  them  and 
watching  them  come  in.  To  his  remark  about  their 
size  John  replied,  "  O,  there's  bigger  snipe  than  lit- 
tle yeller  legs.  There's  a  big  yeller  leg  that 
looks  jest  like  these,  only  it  is  bigger,  and  there's 
willets  and  red  marlins,  and  other  good-sized  birds. 
And  when  it  comes  to  fine  eatin'  birds,  yom-  wood- 
[  81    I 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

cock  ain't  no  ways  ahead  of  a  black-breast  plover. 
I  swmmie,  I  hear  a  big  yeller  leg  now,"  and  he 
began  to  whistle. 

The  sound  came  faintly  from  far  above  them,  but 
finally  Rob,  following  its  direction,  could  see  a  speck 
in  the  dull  sky  which  John  said  was  the  bird.  It 
was  ready  for  company,  and  pretty  soon  it  began  to 
lower  itself,  and  came  up  toward  the  stools,  with 
easy  wing.  "  It's  your  bird,"  Mr.  Warren  said  to 
Rob,  and  the  latter  dropped  it  right  among  the 
stools. 

"  All  right  that  time,"  said  John.  "  But,  young 
man,  I  want  you  to  be  mighty  keerful  and  not  shoot 
into  my  stools.  They  take  time  to  make  and  time 
to  paint,  and  I  allow  there  ain't  a  nicer  lot  on  the 
bay." 

Rob  promised  to  be  very  careful,  and  he  again 
waded  out  and  retrieved  the  bird.  It  was  nearly  as 
large  again  as  the  other  ones,  and  he  thought  it 
quite  worth  a  sportsman's  attention. 

As  soon  as  they  were  settled  down  again  John  be- 
gan to  whistle  once  more,  and  Rob's  attention  was 
directed  to  a  bunch  of  birds  that  were  making  their 
way  toward  them  close  to  the  shore.  "  Dowitchers," 
[82] 


SHOOTING     BAY-SNIPE 

John  explained,  between  whistles.  There  were  ten 
of  them,  and  they  came  in  directly  over  the  stools, 
and  swung  round  ready  to  light,  if  the  water  had 
been  shallow  enough.  All  three  fired  at  these  birds, 
and,  as  they  were  well  bunched,  all  fell  but  two,  and 
these  came  back  and  were  shot,  one  by  Rob  and  one 
by  Mr.  Warren.  "WTien  Rob  had  picked  them  up 
he  found  them  about  the  size  of  the  smaller  birds 
they  had  first  shot,  but  with  a  ruddier  breast.  He 
was  told  that  they  often  came  in  very  large  flocks, 
and  that  they  were  sold  in  the  city  markets  as 
"  English,"  or  properly  speaking,  Wilson's  snipe. 

"  I  must  say,""  remarked  Rob,  "  that  I  have  not  a 
very  high  opinion  of  snipe  intelligence.  I  did  not 
think  any  bird  would  refuse  to  fly  away  when  it  had 
such  warning  as  we  have  given  these  with  our 
guns." 

"  A  snipe  is  a  fool  bird  for  sm-e,"  said  John. 
*'  They  can  be  took  in  easier  than  a  countryman  in 
New  York  City.  Why,  one  spring  I  was  over  on  the 
beach,  without  any  decoys,  one  day,  when  I  see  there 
was  a  stir  of  snipe.  You  know  they  fly  north  in  the 
spring.  So  what  does  I  do  but  make  a  lot  of  mud 
balls  and  stick  them  on  some  sticks  in  the  water, 
[83] 


ROB    AND     HIS     GUN 

and  I  give  you  the  truth  them  birds  stooled  to  them 
mud  balls  just  as  easy  as  you  please,  and  I  killed 
thirty-five  and  then  my  powder  give  out." 

"  I  grant  that  these  snipe  are  not  over-intelli- 
gent,''"' remarked  Cousin  Dave,  "  and  certainly  they 
are  not  timid.  But  you  must  remember  that  we 
are  taking  the  biggest  kind  of  an  advantage  of  them. 
Here  we  are  hidden,  looking  just  like  the  rest  of  the 
shore,  and  in  front  of  us  are  a  very  natural-looking 
flock  of  snipe.  Suppose  you  were  in  a  flock  of  your 
fellow-birds,  looking  for  a  place  to  feed,  and  you 
saw  some  forty  of  your  kind  apparently  enjoying  a 
good  meal.  You,  too,  would  stop,  especially  if  you, 
by  whistle,  were  hospitably  invited  to.  And  if  you 
were  startled  by  a  sound  like  thunder  as  you  drew 
near,  but  you  saw  half  a  dozen  of  your  fellows  ap- 
parently lighting,  after  the  thunder  ceased,  you 
would,  doubtless,  wheel  round  as  these  birds  did,  and 
try  again  to  light.  When  you  match  a  man  against 
a  bird,  the  man,  if  he  knows  his  business,  will 
win." 

So  Mr.  Wan-en  and  John  smoked,  and  they  all 
talked,  and  not  a  half-hour  passed  without  a  shot  at 
something,  for  the  birds  were  on  the  move.  After 
[84] 


SHOOTING     BAY-SNIPE 

ten  o'clock  fewer  were  seen,  but  John  predicted  more 
sport  in  the  afternoon. 

Their  collection  now  embraced,  besides  the  varie- 
ties mentioned,  two  of  the  black-breasted  plover 
which  John  had  so  lauded,  and  which  were  so  fat 
that  one  of  them,  shot  when  flying  quite  high  by 
Rob,  burst  its  breast  open  when  it  struck  the 
ground.  They  had  a  few  robin  snipe  (red-breasted 
sandpipers)  ;  one  tux'nstone,  or  calico-black,  as  John 
called  it,  with  plumage  pied  in  white,  black,  brown, 
and  chestnut ;  and  two  upland  plover,  a  bird  highly 
prized  by  epicures,  and  both  shot  as  a  flock  passed 
over  at  a  good  height,  by  Mr.  Warren.  John 
declared  that  there  was  an  old  sportsman  stay- 
ing at  one  of  the  shore  houses  who  would  have 
given  five  dollars  to  have  killed  those  plover,  as 
it  was  his  boast  that  he  had  killed  the  first  of 
them  taken  on  Shinnecock  Bay  every  year  since 
1860. 

An  amusing  incident  occurred  at  noon,  as  they 
were  eating  their  lunch.  Rob  had  noticed  that 
John  carried  a  lunch-pail  of  his  own,  although  the 
basket  provided  for  him  and  his  cousin  seemed  to 
him  ample  for  the  three.  AVhen  John  uncovered 
[85] 


ROB    AND     HIS    GUN 

this,  Rob  remarked  on  the  generous  supply,  and 
John  rephed  that  if  there  was  any  one  thing  he 
did  hke  to  do,  it  was  to  eat,  and  that  he  had  found 
that,  if  he  did  not  look  out  for  himself,  no  one 
would  look  out  for  him.  As  they  sat  in  the  blind, 
disposing  of  sandwiches,  cold-boiled  eggs,  etc.,  the 
whistle  of  a  snipe  struck  John''s  ear.  Just  at  that 
moment  he  had  bitten  off  about  one-half  of  a  large 
triangular  piece  of  pie.  When  he  heard  the  sound, 
he  made  frantic  efforts  to  dispose  of  the  pie,  and, 
not  succeeding  quickly  enough,  he  then  tried  to 
whistle  with  his  mouth  full.  This  being  also  an 
impossibility,  he  cried  :  "  For  mercy's  sake,  whistle  ; 
whistle  something,  if  it's  only  Yankee  Doodle."  Mr. 
Warren  was  no  mean  snipe-whistler,  but  he  was  so 
overcome  with  laughter  at  John's  efforts  that  he 
could  at  first  make  no  sound.  Rob  did  his  best  to 
imitate  the  call,  and  with  Mr.  Warren's  assistance 
noise  enough  was  made  to  attract  the  attention  of 
the  birds — a  small  flock  of  little  yellow  legs — and 
they  got  four  of  them.  When  Rob  came  back  to 
the  blind  with  the  birds,  he  found  John  on  his  back, 
laughing  till  the  tears  came.  "  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 
he  inquired.  "O,"  said  John,  "the  noise  you  two 
[86] 


SHOOTING     BAY-SNIPE 

made  when  you  got  at  it !  I  guess  those  birds  must 
have  thought  there  was  a  snipe  camp-meetin''  going 
on  here." 

There  were  two  incidents  in  the  way  of  variety  in 
the  afternoon.  Looking  off  to  the  west  John  re- 
marked, "  I  do  beheve  there  is  a  flock  of  willet." 
Mr.  Wan-en  thought  so,  too,  but  they  were  not 
certain  that  they  would  get  a  shot  at  them,  as  the 
birds  in  their  flight  would  pass  near  another  point 
on  which  there  were  shooters.  "  I  know  one  thing," 
said  John,  "  ef  the  man  with  Pete  Lane  can't  whistle 
willet  no  better  than  Pete,  no  willet  won't  take  no 
notice  of  them.  He  seems  to  whistle  yeller  leg  to 
everything." 

How  badly  Pete  whistled  they  did  not  actually 
know,  as  they  were  too  distant  to  hear,  but  at  any 
rate  the  birds  kept  on,  and,  liking  John's  music, 
made  a  direct  line  for  their  stools. 

"  There's  six  of  them  birds,"  said  John,  "  and  I 
propose  we  let  Robbie  kill  'em  aU,  and  give  him  no 
supper  if  he  don't."  Mr.  Warren  agreed  to  this, 
and  Rob  said  he  would  stake  his  supper.  John 
assured  him  that  the  willet  was  the  biggest  fool  of 
all  the  snipe  family,  and  that,  if  he  got  one  wounded 
[87] 


ROB    AND     HIS    GUN 

bird  down,  it  would  squawk  and  all  the  others  would 
come  back  as  often  as  required. 

When  the  birds  came  near,  Rob  found  them  so 
large  that  his  nerve  began  to  become  a  little  agitated, 
but  his  cousin  said,  quietly,  "  No  hurry,  now,"  and 
he  braced  up.  They  let  him  take  his  own  time  to 
shoot,  and  he  brought  down  a  bird  with  each  barrel. 
One  of  these  was  only  wounded,  and  it  made  good 
John's  prediction  about  its  squalling  capacity,  and 
back  came  the  other  birds.  Rob  was  ready  for  them 
and  got  two  with  the  right  barrel  and  one  with  the  left, 
and  then  he  declared  that  he  would  let  the  other  go, 
although  it  came  back  again  and  again  until  he  went 
out  to  pick  up  the  dead  ones. 

He  found  the  birds  larger  than  any  he  had  shot, 
with  partly  webbed  toes,  and  their  plumage  gray, 
with  black  marks,  and  white  underneath.  John  gave 
him  the  opinion  that  they  were  as  poor  a  table-bird 
as  were  shot  on  the  bay,  but  Mr.  Warren  told  John 
that  he  had  no  opinion  of  the  judgment  of  an  epi- 
cure who  confessed  to  liking  bitterns. 

They  had  good  sport  later  in  the  afternoon,  and 
among  the  birds  that  came  to  them  were  two  large 
ones,  one  of  which  Rob  killed,  that  John  called 
[88] 


SHOOTING     BAY-SNIPE 

red  marlin,  the  book-name  being  great  marbled 
godwit.  These  birds  were  colored  like  a  woodcock, 
stood  on  legs  five  inches  long,  and  had  bills  as  long 
as  their  legs.  John  said  he  had  seen  some  large 
flocks  of  them,  but  had  never  killed  many,  and  did 
not  "just  remember  how  they  et."  "All  bay-snipe 
taste  alike  to  me,"  said  Cousin  Dave,  "  and  I  think 
a  little  onion  in  the  pot  improves  the  best  of  them." 

Rob  and  his  cousin  spent  five  days  on  the  bay, 
not  getting  so  good  sport  every  day,  but  never  going 
in  without  some  birds.  Rob  found  the  practice  very 
much  to  his  benefit.  He  had  no  nervous  inclination 
to  overcome,  as  when  a  dog  was  pointing  a  bird  be- 
fore him  in  cover  ;  and  he  was  able  to  take  aim  at 
the  slow-flying  snipe,  and  thus  to  calculate  his  shots. 

On  the  last  afternoon  they  were  out  they  had  the 
good  fortune  to  add  to  their  variety  two  sickle-bill 
cm-lews.  The  birds  came  flying  along  well  out  in 
the  bay,  when  John  spied  them,  but  he  recognized 
them  at  once  and  warned  Rob  that  they  were  a  prize, 
and  they  looked  as  big  as  chickens  to  the  boy  when 
they  came  in.  Rob  was  allowed  to  kill  both  of  them, 
and  was  very  proud  over  his  achievement.  Their  total 
length  was  some  two  feet,  and  their  cui-ved  bills  were 
[89] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

about  eight  inches  long.  John  said  that  in  his  grand- 
father''s  day  he  had  been  told  that  they  often  ap- 
peared in  large  numbers,  but  in  later  years  they  had 
become  somewhat  scarce. 

In  contrast  with  these  big  birds  were  frequent  flocks 
of  the  tiny  snipe  known  on  that  bay  as  the  ox-eye. 
Often  fifty  of  them  would  come  scunying  by,  and 
John  would  call  them  in  with  a  flat,  tin  mouth- 
whistle.  He  said  that  the  market  gunners  shot  them 
when  they  could  kill  a  dozen  or  more  with  one  barrel, 
as  they  brought  about  seventy-five  cents  a  dozen  in 
New  York,  but  Mr.  WaiTen,  who  was  utterly  op- 
posed to  taking  life  unnecessarily,  refused  to  shoot  at 
them,  saying  that  they  had  all  the  larger  birds  that 
they  wanted  for  the  table,  and,  of  course,  he  never 
shot  game  to  sell. 

Before  the  week  was  over,  Rob  fomid  that,  while 
bay-snipe  shooting  was  lazy  sport,  so  far  as  exercise 
was  concerned,  it  subjected  him  to  a  sunburning  that 
turned  his  face  into  a  bright  red,  and  caused  the  skin 
to  peel  fi'om  his  nose.  A  broad-brimmed  hat  did 
not  suffice  to  shield  him  from  the  reflected  rays  of 
the  sun,  and  both  he  and  his  cousin  earned  home 
faces  that  belied  their  strict  temperance  principles. 
[90] 


SHOOTING     BAY -SNIPE 

It  was  so  wanii  that  they  did  not  try  to  take  any 
of  the  birds  home  with  them  to  eat,  but  Rob  took 
several  to  the  city  to  be  set  up  by  a  taxidermist,  as 
the  beginning  of  a  collection  which  he  had  decided  to 
make. 


[91] 


CHAPTER   VII 

A  TRIP  TO   THE  ADIRONDACKS 

AMONG  Mr.  Warren's  trophies  were  two  fine 
stag-heads,  which  had  a  place  in  the  dining- 
room.  He  had  to  tell  Rob  more  than  once  how  they 
were  shot,  and  to  answer  many  a  question  about  the 
difficulties  and  methods  of  deer-hunting.  Rob  had 
added  a  repeating-rifle  to  his  armament,  and  he 
practised  a  good  deal  with  it  at  a  mark  until  he  had 
become  quite  expert  in  this  use  of  it.  His  cousin 
warned  him,  however,  that  it  was  one  thing  to  hit  a 
target,  and  another  to  hit  a  deer  running  in  the 
woods,  even  if  he  escaped  an  attack  of  "  buck  fever." 
Rob  was  delighted  when  his  cousin,  on  reading  a 
letter  one  evening  in  the  following  summer,  told  him 
that  he  had  an  invitation  to  pass  ten  days  with  a 
friend  at  his  camp  in  the  Adirondacks,  and  that  he 
thought  of  accepting  it,  and  taking  Rob  with  him. 
Rob  declared  that  this  would  be  the  greatest  outing 
that  he  coiild  imagine.  He  had  reatJ  Murray's 
[92] 


A    TRIP    TO    THE    ADIRONDACKS 

*'  Adventm-es  in  the  Wilderness,"  and  gotten  from 
this  a  vivid  idea  of  the  many  attractions  of  the  New 
York  North  Woods,  and  his  cousin  now  gave  him 
some  of  the  reports  of  Verplanck  Colvin  to  read  on 
the  same  subject.  So,  when  they  started,  he  had  a 
fair  idea  of  the  geography  of  the  region. 

The  time  of  their  trip  was  September.  Taking 
the  cars  to  Plattsburg,  they  went  a  short  distance 
farther  by  rail  to  Au  Sable  Forks,  where  they  took 
seats  in  a  four-horse  coach,  with  an  all-day's  ride  be- 
fore them.  This  was  before  the  railroad  had  pene- 
trated the  wilderness,  and  driven  the  coaches  away, 
so  that  Rob's  first  view  of  the  big  woods  was  not 
spoiled  by  that  evidence  of  advancing  civilization. 
The  ride  itself  was  an  experience  to  him.  They 
had  seats  with  the  driver,  who  was  a  jolly,  talkative 
fellow,  and  had  an  endless  supply  of  deer-hunting 
and  fishing  stories  with  which  to  entertain  the  boy. 
The  road  was  a  fairly  good  one,  and  the  scenery 
became  wilder  as  they  advanced,  and  some  of  the 
noted  mountains  came  into  view  ;  and  Rob  was  son-y 
when  the  driver  told  him  that  another  half-hour 
would  land  them  on  the  shore  of  the  Upper  Saranac 
Lake,  where  they  would  take  boats  for  the  camp. 
[93] 


ROB    AND     HIS    GUN 

They  found  the  boats  of  their  friend  awaiting 
them,  and  just  as  the  evening  shades  were  falling 
they  set  off  for  the  upper  end  of  the  lake.  There 
was  no  moon,  but  the  stars  were  bright,  and  as  they 
were  rowed  along  the  wooded  shore  they  got  at  once 
the  spirit  of  the  wilderness. 

Suddenly,  after  a  row  of  several  miles,  a  surprise 
was  in  store  for  them.  Rounding  a  point  along  the 
shore,  all  at  once  they  saw  before  them  a  little  fairy- 
land— trees  hung  with  Chinese  lanterns,  a  camp-fire 
sending  up  its  bright  flame  and  sparks,  and  a  bom- 
bardment of  Roman  candles,  mingled  with  cries  of 
welcome.  Rob  had  formed  his  idea  of  a  camp  in 
the  woods  as  something  quite  different.  The  woods 
are  now  full  of  imitation  "  camps  " — permanent  cot- 
tages, supplied  with  all  home  luxuries,  and  attended 
by  as  large  a  corps  of  servants  as  is  a  city  mansion. 
Mr.  Warren's  friend,  Mr.  Lewery,  had  not  spoiled 
the  wilderness  in  this  way,  but  he  had  his  family  with 
him,  and  had  done  what  was  necessary  for  their  com- 
fort, without  destroying  the  attractions  of  actual 
camp-life,  and  he  had  planned  a  little  Fourth-of- 
July  reception  for  his  guests. 

All  lived  in  tents,  but  the  tents  had  wooden  floors, 
[94] 


A    TRIP    TO    THE    ADIRON BACKS 

camp-cots,  and  the  protection  of  "  flies  "  to  keep  out 
the  rain.  Just  back  of  the  Hving-tents  was  the 
dining-tent,  and  back  of  this  a  tent  in  which  the 
guides  had  their  quarters.  Near  by,  with  a  high  rock 
as  a  backing,  was  the  big  camp-fire,  round  which 
some  rustic  seats  were  arranged,  so  that  the  fire 
could  be  enjoyed  with  the  greatest  comfort. 

Rob  was  told  that  one  of  the  guides,  named  Rollo, 
was  to  be  his  special  attendant,  and  they  became 
good  friends  at  once.  Rollo  informed  him  that  he 
liked  boys  if  they  did  just  as  he  told  them  to,  did 
not  scratch  his  boat  in  getting  in  and  out,  and  were 
careful  ^vith  their  rifles.  "  You  do  as  I  tell  you,"  he 
said  to  Rob,  "  and  I'll  eat  my  dog  if  we  don't  kill  a 
deer." 

Several  days  were  devoted  to  visiting  the  friends 
in  the  camp,  and  making  some  little  excm-sions  in 
the  neighborhood.  Rob  found  that  an  Adirondack 
boat  was  a  much  more  pretentious  one  than  he 
had  expected  to  find  in  the  wilderness.  Made  of 
cedar,  and  kept  carefully  varnished,  every  guide 
looked  on  his  own  as  possessing  some  advantage 
above  those  of  his  fellows,  and  Rob  easily  mider- 
stood  why  he  was  cautioned  about  entering  and 
[95] 


ROB    AND     HIS     GUN 

leaving  it  with  care.  On  the  stern  seat  was  a  legless 
chair,  with  a  I'ound  back,  and,  seated  in  this,  with 
the  guide  as  oarsman,  the  occupant  could  enjoy  the 
scenery  with  the  utmost  comfort. 

Finally  it  was  announced  that  the  two  gentlemen 
and  Rob,  each  with  a  guide,  would  start  the  next 
morning  for  a  hunting  trip  of  several  days,  leaving 
the  ladies  and  the  home-camp  in  charge  of  two  other 
guides  and  the  cook,  who,  by  the  way,  was  also  a 
woodsman.  Their  course  was  to  be  up  the  lake  for 
half  a  mile,  then  across  "  Gary's  Cany,"  some  two 
miles  long,  to  the  Raquette  River,  down  this  until 
Big  Tupper  Lake  was  reached,  and  then  by  Bog 
River  and  some  more  "  can'ies "  to  a  point  near 
Little  Tupper  Lake,  where  they  were  to  pitch  their 
tent.  The  guides  were  busy  the  evening  before, 
getting  everything  in  readiness.  As  there  would 
be  considerable  walking  on  the  "  carries,"  it  was  nec- 
essary to  make  their  equipment  as  light  as  possible, 
but  some  things  they  must  have.  "  Don't  forget 
the  axe."  "  Be  sure  you  put  in  a  lantern."  "  Take 
that  bag  of  flour  in  your  boat."  These  were  some 
of  the  commands  that  might  have  been  overheard  as 
the  guides  were  at  work.  Rob  asked  as  few  ques- 
[96] 


A  TRIP  TO  THE  ADIRON BACKS 

tions  as  possible,  but  there  were  a  good  many  prob- 
lems that  presented  themselves  to  him  for  solu- 
tion.    The  morrow  would  supply  the  answers. 

After  an  early  breakfast,  the  little  procession  of 
three  boats  started  on  its  way  up  the  lake,  with 
waving  of  handkerchiefs  from  the  shore  and  promises 
of  venison  on  the  part  of  the  departing  sportsmen. 
The  beginning  of  the  "  carry "  was  soon  reached, 
and  Rob  then  discovered  the  meaning  of  the  term, 
and  how  the  difficulty  of  getting  over  dry  land  with 
a  boat  was  surmounted. 

When  the  boats  were  drawn  up  to  the  shore,  all 
got  out,  and  the  camp-supplies — provisions,  frying- 
pans,  axes,  etc.,  with  the  oars  and  rifles,  were  dis- 
tributed between  Rob  and  his  two  friends.  Then  the 
guides  fixed  a  wooden  yoke  across  each  boat,  to  dis- 
tribute the  weight,  and  each  lifting  his  boat  above 
his  head,  rested  the  yoke  on  his  shoulders,  and  away 
they  went.  While  the  boats  were  lightly  built,  the 
weight  for  a  two-mile  "  cany "  was  not  insignifi- 
cant, but  the  guides  were  sturdy  fellows,  and  they 
trudged  along  steadily  with  their  loads.  Rob  car- 
ried his  rifle  and  as  many  of  the  oars  as  he  could 
manage. 

[97] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

Two  of  the  party  who  have  not  been  mentioned 
were  two  deer-hounds.  At  this  time,  hounding 
deer  was  still  permitted  in  the  Adirondacks,  and 
two  of  the  guides  were  the  owners  of  the  hounds. 
They  were  lank  animals,  by  no  means  so  handsome 
as  the  bird-dogs  at  home,  and  their  principal  train- 
ing had  been  to  teach  them  to  run  on  the  track  of 
a  deer,  and  to  pay  no  attention  to  the  rabbits,  of 
which  there  were  many  in  the  woods.  RoUo  owned 
one  of  the  dogs,  and  he  had  a  good  deal  to  tell 
Rob  as  they  rowed  along  about  his  efficiency. 

At  the  end  of  the  "  carry ""  they  came  to  the  bank 
of  the  Raquette  River,  where  the  boats  were 
launched  again.  This  was  a  slow-moving  stream, 
with  wooded  banks,  its  attractiveness  being  marred 
by  the  fact  that  the  water,  backed  some  years  previ- 
ously by  a  dam,  had  killed  many  of  the  trees.  As 
Rob''s  boat,  which  was  in  advance,  rounded  a  turn 
four  wild  ducks  flew  up.  Rollo  said  they  were 
shell-drakes,  a  narrow  billed  duck  which  fed  on  fish 
and  were  "  poor  eating."  Rob  put  shells  in  a  gun 
of  Rollo's  which  was  in  the  boat,  in  the  hope  of 
getting  a  shot  at  them,  but  they  were  not  seen 
again. 

[98] 


A  TRIP  TO  THE  ADI RON  BACKS 

Big  Tupper  Lake  was  reached  about  noon,  and 
they  landed  at  Moodie's,  a  once  famous  hunter's  re- 
sort, and  ate  their  lunch.  Big  Tupper  Lake  is  a 
large  body  of  water,  and  it  was  somewhat  rough,  but 
by  skirting  the  windward  shore  they  kept  the  boats 
dry.  Reaching  the  upper  end,  two  of  the  guides 
were  sent  to  a  house  there  to  buy  some  potatoes, 
but  none  were  to  be  had.  This  was  a  disappoint- 
ment, as  they  had  brought  along  a  very  small 
supply,  in  order  to  decrease  their  load. 

From  the  lake  the  boats  passed  over  a  short 
"  carry  *'  into  Bog  River,  a  nan-ow  but  beauti- 
ful stream,  which  affords  good  trout-fishing  earlier 
in  the  season,  and  about  foui'  ©""clock  they  reached 
the  place  where  it  was  proposed  to  stop.  There 
they  landed,  and,  unloading  the  tent  and  camp 
equipages,  began  the  preparation  of  the  camp. 
While  the  guides  were  putting  up  the  tent  and 
arranging  a  fire,  the  two  elder  himters  and  Rob 
undertook  the  task  of  bed-making.  Rob  found 
that  his  idea  of  a  bed  of  boughs  was  very  crude. 
He  had  supposed  that  limbs  of  evergreen  trees  were 
simply  cut  and  strewn  on  the  ground,  but  his  cousin 
told  him  that  that  kind  of  a  bed  would  not  do  for 
[99] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

him.  First  they  cut  down  several  small  balsam-trees, 
and  from  these  chopped  off  the  branches.  Inside 
the  tent,  when  it  was  pitched,  these  branches  were 
arranged  in  a  slanting  position,  from  the  head 
down,  so  that  when  the  bed,  which  occupied  the 
whole  tent  space,  was  finished,  it  made  a  springy 
mattress.  Over  this,  rubber  blankets  were  first 
spread,  and  then  woollen  ones,  and  when  all  was 
arranged,  the  hunters  had  a  sleeping-place  which 
no  one  could  complain  of. 

By  the  time  all  this  work  was  completed  it  was 
dark,  and  the  guides  got  supper.  RoUo,  who 
prided  himself  on  his  cooking  skill,  made  hot  bis- 
cuits, and  they  had  fried  bacon  and  potatoes,  and 
fared  well.  Afterward,  while  the  men  smoked 
around  a  big  camp-fire,  Rob  asked  questions,  and 
got  some  information  about  deer-shooting.  He 
wanted  to  know  if  there  were  any  dangerous  wild 
animals  in  the  woods,  and  was  told  that  the  wilder- 
ness lacked  the  element  of  danger,  except  the  dan- 
ger of  getting  lost,  but  that  this  could  be  accom- 
plished very  easily.  "  There  ain't  one  guide  in  ten," 
said  Rollo,  "that  dare  go  far  enough  into  the 
thick  woods  to  put  out  hounds  as  they  ought  to  be. 
[100] 


A    TRIP    TO    THE    ADIRONDACKS 

You've  got  to  take  the  dogs  far  enough  in  to  let 
them  get  a  good  trail,  and  most  of  these  guides  that 
take  out  city  parties  would  never  find  camp  if  they 
went  half  a  mile  from  the  'carry.""  You  can  get 
lost  easier  than  you  can  do  anything  else  in  the  big 
woods,  and  don't  you  forget  it/"* 

"  But  will  not  a  compass  guide  them  ?  '"*  asked 
Rob. 

"  Not  unless  you  know  how  to  use  one,  and  have 
the  lay  of  the  country  in  yoru"  mind.  Once  get 
turned  romid  where  you  can't  see  anything  but  the 
sky  above  you,  and  your  compass  will  tell  you  only 
that  you  don't  know  how  you've  been  travelling.  I 
laid  a  compass  do\ni  one  day  on  a  stump,  just  to 
see  which  way  it  would  point,  when  I  was  sm'e  I 
knew  my  coui'se,  and  I'm  scorched  if  it  did  not 
tell  me  to  go  the  other  way.  First  I  thought  I 
would  not,  and  then  I  said,  '  Well,  I'll  give  you  a 
trial,'  and  I  followed  the  compass's  course  for  a  mile 
and  came  out  in  a  clearing  I  was  after.  There's  one 
thing  sure  :  if  you  use  a  compass  you've  got  to  mind 
it." 

Suddenly  Rob  was  startled  by  an  unearthly  sound 
coming  from  the  woods  near  by.  All  laughed  to 
[101] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

see  him  jump,  and  they  asked  him  if  he  was  ready 
to  tackle  a  wild-cat.  Then  Rollo  explained  that 
the  sound  was  the  hooting  of  a  big  owl.  So  the 
evening  passed,  and  about  nine  o'clock  all  "  turned 
in,"  and  Rob  slept  like  a  top. 

After  an  early  breakfast  the  plans  for  the  day"'s 
hunt  were  put  in  operation.  Rollo  was  inclined  to 
have  Rob  take  a  boat  on  a  small  lake  near  by,  into 
which  he  was  very  sui"e  the  dogs  would  drive  a 
deer ;  but  the  boy  had  heard  so  much  condemna- 
tion from  his  cousin  of  the  shooting  of  deer  by  row- 
ing up  to  them  and  butchering  them,  that  he  said 
he  would  rather  get  no  shot  than  to  secure  one 
in  that  manner.  Both  the  elder  hunters  felt  the 
same  way ;  so  each  was  placed  by  the  guides  on  a 
runway — a  place  where  deer  when  started  would 
be  likely  to  pass — and  then  Rollo  set  out  into  the 
woods  with  the  hounds. 

Rob's  position  was  on  a  neck  of  land  connecting 
a  small  lake  with  a  slough,  and  he  was  warned  not 
to  get  the  "  fever "  if  he  heard  the  dogs  giving 
tongue  in  his  direction,  for  the  deer  would  be  ahead 
of  them.  Rob  found  a  stump,  with  a  big  tree  in 
front  of  it,  and  on  this  stump  he  took  his  seat  to 
[  102  ] 


A    TRIP    TO    THE    ADIllOXDACKS 

await  events.  He  made  a  good  many  plans  about 
the  manner  in  which  he  would  act  if  the  deer  came 
in  sight,  and  he  had  plenty  of  time  to  do  so,  as  not 
a  sound  of  a  dog  reached  his  ear  for  two  hours. 
He  had  some  visitors,  however.  Once  a  partridge 
came  out  of  the  brush  quite  near  him,  and  walked 
to  the  water  and  took  a  drink.  This  gave  him  a 
fine  opportunity  to  observe  the  beauty  of  the  bird. 
Then  he  heard  a  loud  call  in  a  tree-top,  and  got 
sight  of  a  pileated  woodpecker,  the  next  to  the 
largest  of  its  species,  known  in  the  North  as  "  cock 
of  the  woods."  These  birds  were  in  earlier  years 
abundant  all  over  the  Northern  States,  but  are  rare 
now,  and  he  was  fortunate  to  get  a  good  look  at 
one.  It  was  as  large  as  a  teal  duck,  and  its  red 
topknot  rendered  it  easily  distinguishable  among 
the  branches. 

So  time  passed,  and  Rob  was  deep  in  his  thoughts 
when  all  at  once  the  baying  of  a  hound  reached  his 
ears.  It  was  distant,  but  he  had  been  told  that  if 
he  heard  the  sound  he  could  be  sure  that  it  came 
from  one  of  their  hounds,  as  no  other  hunters  were 
in  that  region.  So  he  got  off  his  stump,  and  took 
his  stand  behind  the  big  tree.  The  sound  continued, 
[  103  ] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

sometimes  at  intervals,  but  after  a  time  it  certainly 
grew  nearer.  How  his  heart  beat.  Would  he  get 
the  "  fever  "  and  be  laughed  at  if  he  had  a  shot  and 
missed  ?  No.  He  would  not  miss.  He  would  re- 
member that  Rollo  had  told  him  that  if  he  gave  a 
whistle  the  deer  would  probably  stop  a  moment  to 
locate  the  sound,  and  at  that  moment  he  would  fire. 
In  fact,  he  gave  himself  a  lot  of  good  advice. 

Presently  the  baying  came  so  near  that  he  ex- 
pected to  see  the  deer  at  any  moment,  and  then  the 
direction  changed,  and  soon  he  heard  a  rifle. 

Someone  else  had  got  the  shot. 

An  hour  later  Rollo  was  heard  approaching 
through  the  woods,  making  noise  enough  with  his 
mouth  to  render  it  certain  that  Rob  would  not  mis- 
take him  for  a  deer.  He  said  that  the  deer  which  his 
hound  had  started  had  turned  back,  and  came  only 
near  enough  to  Mr.  Lewery  to  give  him  a  rather 
long  snap-shot,  which  did  not  kill.  That,  however, 
would  have  to  end  their  attempt  that  day.  Rob 
and  Rollo  ate  their  lunch  before  starting  for  the 
camp,  and  found  all  the  rest  of  the  party  there 
when  they  reached  it.  Mr.  Lewery  said  that  he 
got  a  good  if  brief  look  at  the  deer,  which  was  a 
[  104] 


A    TRIP    TO    THE     ADIRONDACKS 

large  doe,  affording  Rob  some  consolation  in  the 
thought  that  he  had  not  lost  a  chance  to  kill  a  buck 
with  antlers. 

Soon  came  an  aggravation.  Three  boats  ap- 
proached, with  a  party  of  tourists,  and  in  one  of  the 
boats  was  the  deer  which,  the  guides  said,  was  with- 
out doubt  the  one  their  hound  had  started.  This 
party  were  not  out  for  sport  at  all,  but  as  they  neared 
the  upper  end  of  Big  Tupper  one  of  their  guides  saw 
a  deer  swimming  across  a  little  bay,  and  he  got  near 
enough  to  it  to  allow  one  of  the  passengers  to  shoot 
it  with  the  guide's  rifle.  Rollo,  looking  it  over 
carefully,  found  a  bullet-mark  on  its  rump,  and  he 
said  that  that  was  undoubtedly  made  by  Mr. 
Lewery.  But  the  deer  was  too  far  in  advance  of 
the  dogs  to  allow  the  Lewery  party  to  claim  it,  and 
they  had  to  swallow  their  disappointment. 

"  Blame  the  deer,"  said  Rollo.  "  We  gave  it  a 
gentlemanly  chance  to  be  killed  in  a  sportsmanlike 
way,  and  what  does  it  do  but  take  to  water  in  front 
of  them  tenderfeet,  who  could  not  hit  a  barn  door 
if  they  did  not  stand  on  top  of  it.  But  we'll  have 
to  pot-hunt  pretty  soon,  'cause  the  taters  is  most 
gone,  and  w  e've  got  only  one  meal  of  ham." 
[105] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

In  fact,  their  provisions  were  pretty  low,  because 
they  had  counted  on  getting  a  deer  the  first  day. 
That  evening  Rob  took  a  little  walk  up  the  stream, 
while  supper  was  cooking,  and,  looking  through  the 
bushes,  he  spied  a  flock  of  several  ducks.  Hasten- 
ing back,  he  loaded  Rollo's  gun,  and  saying  nothing, 
slipped  off  to  attempt  to  get  a  shot  at  them,  ^Vhen 
he  reached  the  place  where  he  had  seen  them  they 
were  not  there,  but  he  found  them  not  far  beyond, 
swimming  slowly  down  the  stream.  The  bushes  on 
either  side  were  thick,  and  he  crept  in  their  cover 
until  he  got  within  easy  distance.  As  there  was  no 
chance  of  a  shot  after  they  took  wing,  he  waited 
until  he  saw  three  heads  in  line,  and  then  he  fired. 
Breaking  his  way  to  the  bank,  he  found  all  three  of 
the  ducks  floundering  in  the  water,  and  soon  had 
them  gathered  and  was  on  his  way  to  camp.  His 
cousin  met  him  before  he  got  there,  having  missed 
the  boy,  and  started  to  see  what  the  shot  meant. 

"No  starvation  now,  Cousin  Dave,"  cried  Rob, 
holding  up  his  ducks  at  arm's  length. 

"  Well,  you  did  get  a  shot,  without  mistake. 
Did  you  kill  them  all  at  once  ?" 

Rob  explained  his  exploit,  and  Mr.  Wan-en  told 
[106] 


A    TRIP    TO    THE     ADIRONDACKS 

him  the  ducks  were  greater  mergansers  (the  bigger 
shelldrake),  also  called  goosanders.  They  were  fish- 
eaters,  and  not  delicacies  for  the  table,  but  he 
thought,  in  view  of  their  commissary  condition,  they 
would  try  them.  So,  when  the  camp  was  reached, 
Rob  and  one  of  the  guides  picked  them,  and  Rollo 
tried  his  hand  at  broiling  them.  Now,  one  of  the 
things  they  had  forgotten,  in  spite  of  all  warnings, 
was  a  lantern,  and  the  broiling  and  eating  were  done 
in  the  dark.  Mr.  Warren  declared,  notwithstanding 
Rollo's  protests,  that  his  piece  of  duck  had  not  been 
near  the  fire,  and  Rob  confessed  that  his  needed 
pounding  to  enable  him  to  get  his  teeth  into  it. 
But  the  meal  made  a  good  deal  of  sport,  if  it  did 
not  satisfy  the  palate,  and  Rob  was  told  that  he 
would  have  to  dine  on  duck  the  next  day  if  he  did 
not  kill  a  deer. 

The  weather  was  nmch  cooler  the  next  morning, 
and  there  was  a  little  ice  on  the  water-pail  when 
they  got  up.  The  guides  declared  that  it  was  an 
ideal  day  for  deer,  and  the  arrangement  of  the  day 
before  was  renewed,  except  that  Rollo  let  one  of  the 
other  men  put  out  the  dogs,  and  he  stayed  with 
Rob.  "  I  mean,"  said  he  (he  had  taken  a  gi-eat  lik- 
[  107  ] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

ing  to  the  boy),  "  to  have  you  kill  a  deer,  and  I  be- 
lieve I  will  be  good  luck." 

There  was  again  long  waiting,  and  much  com- 
plaint by  RoUo  about  the  course  he  supposed  the 
guide  with  the  hounds  had  taken  (no  one  could  do 
that  work  quite  to  his  own  satisfaction),  and  it  was 
after  ten  o'clock  when  first  a  dog  was  heard  to  give 
tongue.  Then  the  sound  came  from  beyond  Bog 
River,  and  Rollo  said  that  the  deer,  if  it  came  to 
them,  would  take  the  water  from  behind  them.  So 
they  changed  their  station  a  little,  giving  them  a 
wider  view  of  the  httle  lake  in  fi-ont.  "  Likelier'n 
not,"  said  Rollo,  "  the  deer  will  enter  the  water  up 
the  lake,  but  we  must  take  our  chances.  I  wish  he 
would  leap  over  that  log  out  there.  If  he  sho%dd, 
3^ou  must  fire  first,  and  I'll  follow  if  you  don't  do\vii 
him." 

Deer  often  do  the  unexpected,  and  this  one  did. 
While  Rob  was  listening  to  the  still  distant  dogs, 
Rollo  heard  a  crackling  of  brush  in  the  woods, 
and  whispered,  "  Now  ready,  by  gum  that  deer's 
light  on  us."  As  he  spoke,  the  deer  broke  out  of 
the  cover,  and  stopped  to  look  around,  right  on  the 
border  of  the  lake,  some  seventy- five  yards  from 
[108] 


A    TRIP     TO     THE     ADIRONDACKS 

where  they  stood.  Before  it  had  discovered  them, 
Rob's  rifle  was  at  his  shoulder,  and  he  fired.  The 
deer  fell. 

To  do  justice  to  Rob's  feelings  would  be  impossi- 
ble. Rollo  declared  at  the  camp-fire  that  night 
that  he  did  get  the  "  fever,"  but  that  it  came  after 
the  shot.  Thi'owing  down  his  rifle,  he  ran  to  the 
deer,  and  shouted,  "  O,  Rollo,  it's  a  buck,  and  it  has 
got  horns." 

"  Little  ones,"  replied  Rollo,  with  twinkling  eye. 

"  They're  big  enough,"  said  Rob.  "  I  am  going 
to  have  them  set  up,  and  send  them  to  father  for 
the  dining-room  at  home." 

It  w^as  indeed  a  young  buck  of  fair  size,  %vith  a 
pretty  pair  of  antlers,  and  the  boy  had  made  a  good 
shot,  right  behind  the  shoulder.  He  was  allowed 
to  admire  it  as  long  as  he  wanted  to,  and  Rollo 
then  handed  Rob  his  rifle,  and,  tossing  the  deer 
across  his  shoulders,  they  set  out  for  camp.  A\nien 
the  rest  of  the  party,  who  had  been  stationed  far- 
ther away,  came  in,  the  deer  was  nicely  hung  on  a 
limb,  and  Rob  received  the  praise  and  congratula- 
tions that  were  his  due. 

Rob  had  learned  that  deer-hunting  differed  in 
[109] 


ROB    AND     HIS     GUN 

one  important  particular  from  bird-hunting.  When 
the  dogs  had  started  a  deer  and  its  fate  m  as  de- 
cided one  way  or  the  other,  that  ended  the  day''s 
hunt.  The  dogs  were  tired,  and  their  baying  had 
driven  out  of  reach  any  other  deer  that  might  have 
been  in  the  immediate  neighborhood.  Mr.  "Warren 
did  not  conceal  his  preference  for  bird-hunting,  if 
only  the  sport  was  concerned,  but  said  that  he  so 
loved  the  woods  and  the  out-door  life  that  there  was 
charm  enough  for  him  in  the  wilderness,  even  if  there 
had  been  no  deer  to  hunt. 

They  stayed  in  this  camp  two  more  days,  on  one 
of  which  the  two  elder  sportsmen  went  still-hunting 
with  their  guides,  that  is,  without  the  dogs,  leaving 
Rob  to  pass  the  day  with  Rollo.  The  dogs  could 
not  be  put  out,  because  they  would  have  interfered 
with  the  sport  of  the  others,  and  Rollo  proposed  to 
hunt  for  partridges,  a  plan  to  which  Rob  eagerly 
agreed.  They  were  to  take  one  rifle  and  one  shot- 
gun, and  to  use  the  rifle  if  any  birds  were  treed. 

Pocketing  a  lunch,  they  set  out  across  Bog  River^ 

Rollo  knowing  the  country  in  all  that  region  very 

thoroughly.     They  were  handicapped  by  having  no 

dog,  but  Rollo  was  partridge -wise,  and  in  a  little 

[110] 


A  TRIP  TO  THE  ADIRON BACKS 

swamp  he  put  up  a  half-dozen  birds  at  once.  As 
soon  as  they  rose  he  began  barking  Hke  a  dog,  and 
several  of  the  birds  took  to  the  trees.  Rollo  con- 
tinued his  barking,  and  Rob  advanced  within  good 
rifle-shot,  and  took  off  the  head  of  his  first  bird  in 
good  style.  Rollo  brought  do^\Ti  one  that  Rob 
could  not  see  because  of  the  leaves,  and  Rob  got  one 
more,  and  then  they  continued  their  tramp,  Rollo 
declaring  his  belief  that  the  other  hunters  would  have 
to  look  to  them  for  supper. 

There  was  a  growth  of  hard  wood — that  is,  beach 
and  hickory — ahead  of  them,  and  Rollo  suggested 
that  they  might  get  a  shot  at  a  gray  squirrel  there. 
A  beech-tree  stood  on  the  border  of  this  growth,  and 
Rollo  was  telling  Rob  how  fond  bears  were  of  beech- 
nuts when  the  boy  exclaimed,  "  O,  Rollo,  what  is 
that  black  thing  over  there  ?  " 

Rollo  looked,  and  behold,  a  small  black  bear  was 
taking  itself  into  the  farther  swamp  as  fast  as  its 
legs  could  carry  it,  evidently  much  more  afraid  of 
man  than  any  man  was  of  it.  "  Shoot,"  said  Rollo, 
and  Rob,  who  had  not  remembered  to  do  so  sooner, 
fired  into  the  bushes,  but  when  they  looked  there, 
no  bear  was  to  be  found.  Rob  was  delighted  to 
[111] 


ROB    AND     HIS     GUN 

have  even  seen  a  bear,  and  said  he  could  forgive 
himself  for  not  shooting  more  quicivly.  RoUo,  on 
his  part,  admitted  that  he  did  not  discover  the  bear 
till  Rob  called  his  attention  to  it,  but  was  sure  that 
if  his  dog  Esop  had  been  with  them  the  bear 
"  would  have  had  no  show." 

There  were  plenty  of  "  workings,"  that  is,  shells  of 
beech-nuts  which  squirrels  had  eaten,  but  no  squir- 
rels were  to  be  seen,  Rollo  explaining  that  they  did 
their  feeding  early  and  late  in  the  day ;  but  he 
discovered  a  clump  of  leaves  in  the  upper  branches  of 
a  tree,  and  said  that  this  was  a  squirrel's  nest,  and 
that  he  would  fire  into  it  with  his  shotgun  and  see 
what  would  come  out.  He  did  so,  and  out  sprang  a 
fine  gray  squirrel,  which  he  brought  down  with  the 
second  barrel.     That  ended  their  squirrel -shooting. 

A  long  tramp  failed  to  discover  any  more  par- 
tridges until  they  came  to  an  old  wood  road,  made 
many  years  previously  by  timber- cutters.  Follow- 
ing this,  Rollo  in  advance,  they  reached  a  little 
brook,  spanned  by  the  remains  of  a  bridge  of  logs. 
When  he  came  in  sight  of  this,  Rollo  dropped  on 
his  knees  and  held  up  his  hand  to  Rob  as  a  caution. 
"  What  is  it .?"  asked  Rob.  "  Look  on  that  bridge," 
[112] 


A    TRIP    TO    THE     ADIRONDACKS 

said  Rollo.    "  A  whole  buiich  of  partridges,  sunning 
themselves.'" 

Rob  saw  them  at  once,  and  an  interesting  sight 
they  were.  Perhaps  no  foot  of  man  had  ever  dis- 
turbed them,  and  they  wallowed  in  the  dust  and 
pecked  themselves,  just  hke  a  flock  of  chickens  in  a 
barnyard.  It  would  have  been  easy  to  kill  a  good 
many  of  them  with  one  load  of  shot,  but  Rob  would 
have  not  been  so  unsportsmanhke,  and  Rollo  did 
not  propose  it.  (What  he  might  have  done  had  he 
been  alone  I  do  not  undertake  to  say.)  When  they 
had  viewed  the  birds  as  long  as  they  cared  to,  Rob 
proposed  to  try  for  the  big  cock-bird's  head,  vnih. 
the  rifle,  and  to  let  Rollo  chance  his  luck  with  the 
gun  when  the  birds  got  up.  Rollo  was  no  wing- 
shot,  but  he  did  not  say  so.  Rob  awaited  his  oppor- 
tunitv,  and,  firing  at  what  seemed  to  be  the  father 
of  the  flock,  decapitated  him  nicely.  Rollo  let  the 
others  have  both  barrels  of  his  shotgun,  but  \v4th- 
out  effect.  He  afterward  declared  that  the  sun 
shone  in  his  eyes  and  spoiled  his  aim.  There  are 
various  ways  of  accounting  for  misses. 

Soon  after  this  they  turned  their  steps  homeward 
— so  Rollo   said;    Rob   had  not  an   idea  of   their 
[113] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

locality — finding  the  woods,  which  were  rather  open, 
quite  devoid  of  game.  Presently  a  steep  ridge  rose 
before  them,  up  which  they  trudged  in  single  file. 
Stopping  to  rest  on  its  summit,  Rollo  was  pointing 
out  the  direction  of  the  camp  to  Rob,  when  both 
saw  at  once  a  small  doe  running  leisurely  in  the 
valley  beneath  them.  It  did  not  see  nor  wind  them, 
but  it  was  too  far  off  to  shoot,  and  there  was  no 
chance  of  creeping  up  to  it  in  such  open  woods  ;  so 
they  stood  still  and  admired  it  until  it  disappeared. 
Rob  said  that  what  surprised  him  most  was  its 
apparent  smallness.  He  had  expected  to  see  every 
deer  stand  up  as  large  as  a  cow,  and  this  one  was  not 
apparently  bigger  than  a  good-sized  dog.  Rollo 
told  him  that  this  was  the  connnon  experience  of 
those  who  had  their  first  sight  of  deer,  and  he  in- 
stanced the  case  of  a  young  man  with  whom  he  stood 
on  a  run -way,  and  who  thought  a  deer  that  came 
out  by  them  was  a  dog,  and  did  not  shoot  before  it 
had  darted  back  again. 

The  rest  of  the  party  had  reached  camp  when 

they  got  there,  and  Mr.  Warren  and  his  guide  had 

brought  in  a  fine   doe.     Rob  was  almost  as  much 

delighted  in  hearing  the  story  of  its   capture  as  he 

[114] 


A    TRIP    TO    THE    ADIROXDACKS 

would  have  been  in  killing  it  himself.  Indeed,  he 
had  honestly  ^\^shed  that  his  cousin  might  kill  the 
next  deer.  It  seemed  that  on  coming  to  a  rising 
piece  of  woods,  with  a  swampy  growth  on  one  side 
of  it,  the  guide  had  placed  Mr.  Wan-en  where  the 
ridge  sloped  off  to  the  south  of  the  swamp,  and  had 
then  acted  as  dog,  and  entered  the  swamp  at  the 
other  end.  By  good  luck  a  deer  was  feeding  in  the 
swamp,  and  by  some  more  good  luck  it  took  a 
course  ^vithin  range  of  the  rifle,  and  Mr.  Warren 
dropped  it  dead. 

"  Was  it  moving  when  you  shot.  Cousin  Dave  ?  " 
asked  Rob.  He  was  told  that  it  was  going  on  a 
gentle  lope.  "  Then,"  said  he,  "  you  are  a  little 
ahead  of  me,  for  my  deer  had  stopped  when  I 
fired." 

"  But,"  interposed  Rollo,  "  yours  is  a  buck." 

They  let  that  settle  the  question,  and  listened 
with  interest  to  Rob's  story  of  seeing  the  bear,  Mr. 
Lewery  declaring  that  to  shoot  a  bear  was  now  his 
ungratified  ambition,  and  Rollo  offering  to  guarantee 
him  a  shot  at  one  if  he  would  prolong  his  stay  until 
December. 

On  the  other  day  of  their  stay  no  deer  came 
[115] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

within  sight  or  shot  of  either  of  the  party,  and  the 
next  morning  the  home-trip  was  begun,  and  the 
home-camp  was  duly  reached  without  any  incident 
of  note  on  the  way.  The  hmiters  had  lived  on 
venison  and  biscuit  for  two  days,  their  vegetables 
having  given  out,  and  the  whole  camp  had  a  royal 
supper  that  night,  of  which  venison  chops  and 
broiled  partridges  were  the  features. 


[116] 


CHAPTER  VIII 

DUCK-SHOOTING  ON  BARNEGAT  BAY 

TWO  or  more  years  later  (we  need  not  be  par- 
ticular about  the  years  any  longer)  a  Novem- 
ber afternoon  found  Rob  and  his  cousin  in  the  cars, 
on  the  way  to  Barnegat,  New  Jersey,  where  they 
were  to  enjoy  a  few  days'  sport  with  the  wild  ducks. 
Rob  had  listened  with  great  interest  to  many  a  talk 
by  his  cousin  about  this  sport,  of  which  Mr.  Warren 
was  very  fond,  and  his  expectations  of  a  grand  time 
were  aroused  to  the  highest  point. 

When  they  stepped  on  the  platform  of  the  depot 
at  Barnegat  village,  a  little  man  whose  face,  except 
a  pair  of  bright  eyes,  was  concealed  by  a  thick 
growth  of  whiskers,  greeted  Mr.  Warren  warmly, 
and  was  introduced  to  Rob  as  Jesse  Birdwell,  the 
bayman  who  would  provide  the  boats  and  be  their 
cook  and  general  director  during  their  stay.  No 
time  was  lost  in  the  preliminary  aiTangements. 
While  Mr.  Warren  and  Rob  ate  their  supper  at  the 
[117  1 


ROB     AND     HIS    GUN 

hotel,  Jesse  did  the  marketing  for  the  trip.  They 
would  live  on  his  yacht,  without  visiting  the  main- 
land until  the  shooting  was  ended,  and  it  was  nec- 
essary therefore  to  take  all  their  stores  with  them. 
Mr.  Warren  simply  gave  Jesse  a  bill,  with  the  in- 
struction, "  Get  what  is  necessary,"  and  he  knew 
they  would  not  come  short. 

After  supper  Jesse  met  them  in  a  ramshackle  old 
stage  which  was  to  convey  them  and  their  shooting- 
equipment  and  supplies  to  the  bay,  something  over 
a  mile  distant.  Arriving  there,  the  visitors  waited 
on  an  old  dock  until  Jesse  brought  up  his  yacht. 
The  yacht,  while  comfortable  in  every  way,  and  a 
fine  sailing  craft,  was  devoid  of  the  elegances  and 
comforts  that  are  supposed  to  tnark  a  yacht's  equip- 
ment. The  cabin  was  small,  and  contained  only 
common  lockers,  a  seat  running  around  it,  a  little 
stove  astern  the  centreboard,  a  table,  that  was  let 
down  by  the  side  of  the  centreboard  when  not  in 
use,  and  some  mattresses.  When  the  hatch  was 
pulled  over,  a  man  could  not  stand  up  in  the  cabin, 
but  as  they  used  the  boat  only  at  night,  and  as 
there  was  a  folding-chair  to  accommodate  Mr. 
Warren,  he  declared  that  he  did  not  want  any- 
[118] 


DUCK-SHOOTING     ON     BARNEGAT     BAY 

thing  better.  The  true  sportsman  knows  that  lux- 
uries and  success  with  game  do  not  often  go  to- 
gether. 

When  Jesse  had  stowed  away  his  stores  to  his 
satisfaction,  the  sail  was  raised,  and  they  stood 
across  the  bay.  Jesse  told  Mr.  Wan-en  where  he 
proposed  to  spend  the  night,  but  all  that  Rob 
understood  about  it  was  that  it  would  be  within 
easy  reach  of  the  shooting-ground. 

Behind  the  yacht  trailed  three  small  boats,  which 
were  really  the  most  essential  part  of  their  equip- 
ment, and  about  which  a  few  descriptive  words  are 
necessary.  As  Barnegat  Bay  is  a  big  piece  of 
water,  the  native  wild-fowl  shooter,  who  for  genera- 
tions has  follovred  the  business  for  a  living  in  the 
proper  seasons,  finds  it  necessary  to  have  a  sail-boat 
big  enough  to  render  it  safe  for  him  to  cross  the 
bay,  and  go  in  any  direction,  no  matter  how  rough 
the  weather  may  be.  But  wild  fowl  are  very  wary 
birds,  and  it  would  be  folly  to  attempt  to  approach 
them  in  a  big  boat  carrying  a  mast  and  sail. 
Something  has  to  be  provided,  therefore,  from 
which  to  do  the  shooting,  when  the  neighborhood 
of  the  shooting-ground  is  reached. 
[1191 


ROB    AND     HIS     GUN 

Out  of  this  necessity  was  evolved  the  small  gun- 
ning-boat known  as  the  "  Barnegat  sneak-box."  The 
sneak-box  (a  name  derived  from  its  use  in  sneaking 
on  the  birds)  is  a  keel-boat,  generally  12  feet  in 
length,  about  3  feet  and  7  inches  in  width,  and  10 
inches  in  depth  aniidship.  It  is  partly  decked  over, 
like  a  canoe,  has  a  movable  mast  and  a  centreboard, 
and  is  also  equipped  with  movable  rowlocks  and  oars. 
Perhaps  no  boat  of  its  size  was  ever  built  that  can 
sail  closer  to  the  wind,  and  that  can  "  live  "  in  rougher 
water,  when  it  is  sailed  by  a  man  who  knows  how  to 
get  out  of  it  its  best  work.  When  the  gunner  is 
ready  to  go  for  ducks  or  geese,  he  leaves  his  bigger 
boat  at  anchor  a  mile  or  more  from  his  shooting- 
ground,  and  does  his  shooting  from  his  sneak-box, 
which  not  only  carries  him  just  where  he  wants  to 
go,  but,  when  arrived  there,  affords  him  a  perfect 
place  of  concealment, 

Rob  enjoyed  the  sail  across  the  bay  very  much, 
although  the  air  was  keen,  and  Jesse  good-naturedly 
answered  his  many  questions — explaining  how  the 
appearance  and  disappearance  of  the  light  in  the 
light-house  toward  which  they  were  sailing  permitted 
the  sailors  on  the  ocean  to  identify  it,  telling  him 
[  120  J 


DUCK-SHOOTIXG     ON     BARNEGAT     BAY 

more  than  I  have  told  about  the  sneak-boxes,  in 
whose  saihng  quahties  he  had  the  greatest  faith,  and 
predicting  some  good  sport  if  the  weather  did  not 
tm-n  mild.  He  said  that  there  were  plenty  of  ducks 
in  the  bay,  but  that  on  still,  warm  days  they  were 
usually  quiet  on  their  feeding-grounds,  while  in 
rougher  weather  they  kept  moving,  and  thus  came 
within  sight  of  the  decoys. 

The  anchorage-gi'ound  being  reached,  Jesse  put 
out  a  small  anchor  fi'om  both  the  fore  and  aft  part 
of  the  boat,  saying  that  he  could  not  sleep  well  if 
the  boat  was  swinging  around  all  night.  Next  he 
insisted  on  lighting  his  stove  and  making  them  a 
cup  of  coffee,  which  they  accepted,  and  then  he  said 
that  they  would  better  get  ready  for  bed,  as  he  would 
have  them  up  betimes  in  the  morning.  "  How 
early  ?  "  asked  Rob.  "  It's  smi-rise  about  half-past 
six,"  Jesse  rephed,  "  and  we  want  to  be  rigged  out 
before  that  hom\  So,  as  I  have  to  be  cook  and 
house-maid  at  the  same  time,  you  will  hear  me  stir- 
ring about  half-past  three."  Rob  concluded  that 
the  advice  about  turning  in  early  was  good. 

The  sleeping  accommodations  of  the  Florence  (so 
the  yacht  was  named)  were  primitive.  For  Mr. 
[121] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

Warren,  Jesse  made  a  bed  by  placing  two  springy 
boards  on  two  wooden  "horses,"  and  covering  the 
boards  with  a  mattress.  "  You'll  have  to  sleep  with 
me,"  said  he  to  Rob.  "  The  Florence  does  not  expect 
two  guests  at  once."  Sleeping  with  Jesse  meant 
creeping  forward  where  there  were  two  other  mat- 
tresses, and  covering  up  with  some  blankets,  without 
removing  more  than  his  outer  garments.  But  Rob 
took  to  his  quarters  readily,  and  was  soon  lulled  to 
sleep  by  the  lapping  of  the  water  agairust  the  side  of 
the  boat. 

The  first  thing  that  he  was  conscious  of  the  next 
morning  was  the  sound  of  a  sizzling  frying-pan,  and 
the  odor  of  frying  ham.  "  Breakfast  'most  ready," 
said  Jesse.  "Time  to  get  up.  You  don't  have 
much  dressing  to  do."  As  their  fresh- water  keg  was 
not  a  large  one,  Rob  was  advised  to  dip  up  a  bucket 
of  the  bay  water  for  his  ablutions,  Jesse  laughingly 
recommending  it  for  his  complexion.  It  was  cold  and 
cloudy  and  dark  as  pitch  when  he  stuck  his  head  out 
of  the  cabin — a  likely  morning  for  ducks,  Jesse  ob- 
served. 

They  sat  down  to  a  breakfast  of  fried  ham  and 
eggs,  boiled  potatoes,  bread  and  butter  and  coffee, 
[  122  ] 


DUCK-SHOOTING     ON     BARNEGAT     BAY 

all  nicely  prepared,  and  all  cooked  on  what  Jesse 
called  his  "  two-holed  stove."  "  Save  some  appetite 
before  you  finish,"  said  their  cook.  "  Why,  is  there 
another  course  ?  "  asked  Rob.  "  Sure,"  said  Jesse  ; 
"  I  can  always  shoot  better  on  buckwheat  cakes  ; " 
and  buckwheat  cakes  they  had,  and  good  ones,  too, 
made  from  Jesse''s  self-raising  flour,  and  topped  off 
with  maple  syrup.  Rob  thought  to  himself  that  if 
Jesse's  shooting  was  measured  by  the  cakes  he  ate,  a 
great  day  was  before  them,  for  he  had  never  seen 
such  a  pile  of  them  disappear  as  did  in  front  of  the 
bay  man. 

Breakfast  finished,  Jesse  "  did  up  his  work,"  as  he 
called  it.  This  consisted  of  thi'owing  overboard 
every  scrap  of  the  remnants,  and  washing  the  dishes. 
"  Two  things  I  won't  do,"  said  he.  "  One  is  to  have 
any  left-over  things  in  my  pantry,  and  the  other  is 
to  have  any  washing  up  to  do  when  I  come  in  at 
night.  Do  all  the  work  before  you  start,  and  then 
you  can  enjoy  the  day." 

And  now  came  what  Rob  was  waiting  for,  the 

start  for  the  shooting-ground.     Mr.  Wairen  asked 

no  questions  about  this  and  gave   no   suggestions, 

for  he  knew  that  Jesse  would  bring  to  the  solution 

[123] 


ROB     AND     HIS    GUN 

of  the  matter  years  of  experience,  and  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  the  bay.  First,  each  sneak-box  was 
relieved  of  the  wooden  hatch  that  keeps  out  the 
rain  when  it  is  not  in  use,  the  hatches  being  placed 
on  the  deck  of  the  yacht.  Each  gunner  then  placed 
in  his  box  the  things  he  would  want  to  use.  Mr. 
Warren  and  Rob  had  each  a  rubber  blanket  and  an 
air-pillow,  besides  their  guns  and  cartridge-boxes. 
Jesse's  oil-skin  coat  served  him  instead  of  a  rubber 
blanket,  and  a  bmich  of  marsh  hay  did  for  his 
pillow. 

"  Can  you  row,  Rob  ? "  he  asked  at  the  start. 
"  Some,"  said  Rob,  "  but  I  do  not  call  myself  an 
oarsman."  "  Til  give  you  a  tow,"  said  Jesse.  "We've 
got  a  goodly  pull  ahead  of  us,  for  I  always  want  to 
be  a  safe  distance  from  any  mast  that  might  steer 
off  the  birds."  Accordingly,  he  tied  the  painter 
(tie-rope)  of  Rob's  boat  to  the  stern  of  his,  and, 
with  Mr.  Warren  bringing  up  the  rear,  the  proces- 
sion moved  on.  A  sneak-box  is  by  no  means  a  light 
boat,  and  Rob's  arms  got  very  tired  long  before 
Jesse  announced  that  their  rowing  was  nearly 
over. 

It  was  still  very  dark  when  they  started,  and  for 
[  124  ] 


DUCK-SHOOTING  ON  BARNEGAT  BAV 

some  time  the  only  object  Rob  could  discover  was 
the  light-house  light,  to  their  right.  After  a  while 
the  beach  became  dimly  visible,  and  Rob  noticed 
that  they  passed  several  points  of  land  that  jutted 
out  into  the  bay.  In  skirting  one  of  these  Jesse 
called  out  to  Mr.  Warren,  "  Remember  killing  the 
two  geese  off  that  point  there  ? "  "  Don't  I !  "  re- 
plied Mr.  Warren.      "  I  had  you  there,  Jesse." 

Rob  asked  no  questions  at  the  time,  but  he  men- 
tally saved  up  some. 

After  more  than  half  an  hour  of  this  progi-ess, 
Jesse  stood  up  in  his  boat  and,  taking  a  good  look 
around,  remarked,  "  We're  pretty  near  about  right 
now."  Moving  the  boat  as  he  stood  with  one  oar 
as  a  paddle,  he  scanned  the  surface  of  the  water,  and 
presently  cried,  "  Whoa.  Here's  the  place."  Rob 
now  stood  up,  too,  and  looked  around  him.  Then  he 
was  puzzled.  Instead  of  being  along  the  shore,  as 
he  supposed  they  would  be  when  they  should  stop  in 
preparation  for  the  shooting,  they  were  half  a  mile 
from  any  land,  out  in  the  bay,  on  the  beach  side. 
What  added  to  his  bewilderment  was  the  fact  that 
the  sneak-boxes  were  painted  white,  and  he  could 
not  see  why  a  wary  duck  could  not  discover  them 
[125] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

quite  as  easily  as  it  could  the  yacht  which  Jesse  was 
so  anxious  to  leave  far  behind.  But  he  decided  to 
await  results,  and  not  unveil  his  curiosity  too  soon. 

Jesse  understood,  however,  that  the  boy  must  be 
somewhat  at  a  loss  to  understand  the  situation,  and 
he  said,  as  he  drew  from  his  boat  a  long-handled 
rake  with  very  cm-ved  teeth,  "  I'll  soon  have  some 
work  for  you  and  Mr.  "Warren  to  do,  I  suppose 
you  think  this  is  a  queer  place  in  which  to  hide  for 
ducks."  Rob  confessed  that  he  did.  "  We  might 
shoot  from  points,  and  we  often  do,"  Jesse  continued. 
"  WTien  I  size  up  a  city  man  who  comes  down  here 
Avith  a  twelve-bore  gun  and  a  lot  of  cigarettes,  and 
does  not  know  a  canvas-back  fi-om  a  coot,  I  put 
that  man  on  a  point,  no  matter  how  the  \nnd  is  and 
what  the  weather.  If  I  took  all  the  trouble  to  rig 
out  in  such  a  place  as  this,  he  couldn't  hit  anything 
if  it  came  along,  and  he  would  not  keep  his  head 
below  deck,  and  he  would  want  to  go  to  the  yacht 
for  dinner  at  noon.  I've  had  plenty  of  that  sort. 
But  your  cousin  knows  good  ducks,  and  won't  shoot 
poor  ones,  and  he  knows  how  to  shoot,  and,  seeing 
that  we  are  two  to  one  against  you,  you  can't  leave 
here  till  we  get  ready." 

[126] 


DUCK-SHOOTING  ON  BARNEGAT  BAY 

Dui'ing  this  conversation  Jesse  had  been  drawing 
up  with  his  rake  great  masses  of  sea-weed,  whose 
location  had  been  revealed  to  him  by  a  fleck  of  foam 
on  the  surface  of  the  water  that  indicated  the  pres- 
ence of  the  weed  beneath.  This  foam  was  the  dis- 
covery that  decided  the  precise  location  of  their 
stopping-place.  The  weed  was  drawn  by  him  away 
from  the  centre,  so  as  to  leave  an  open  place  into 
which  the  others  were  told  to  shove  their  boats. 
Then  another  puzzle  was  explained  to  Rob.  The 
sneak -boxes  were,  as  we  have  seen,  painted  white, 
and  Jesse  asked  his  companions  to  cover  their  decks 
with  the  weed  while  he  was  putting  out  the  stools. 
This  was  really  not  very  pleasant  work,  for  the 
weeds  were  cold  and  slimy  and  gritty,  and  Rob  was 
quite  chilled  before  he  got  through. 

Finally  he  asked :  "  Cousin  Dave,  why  do  the 
baymen  not  paint  these  boats  the  color  of  the  banks 
and  the  weeds,  and  save  all  this  bother  of  covering 
them  with  the  sea-weed  ? " 

"  Because  the  baymen,  when  they  shoot  for  mar- 
ket in  the  winter,  as  they  do,  use  their  boats  on  the 
ice.  When  the  bay  is  nearly  frozen  over,  there  are 
large  air-holes,  and  into  these  many  ducks  drop  to 
[  127  ] 


ROB     AXD     HIS     GUN 

feed.  The  baymen  push  their  boats  to  the  edge  of  a 
convenient  air-hole,  pile  up  some  cakes  of  ice  around 
them,  put  out  some  stools,  and  often  kill  a  large 
number  of  birds  in  a  day.  Few  visiting  sportsmen 
try  this  kind  of  shooting,  as  it  is  cold,  rough  work. 
Now,  to  conceal  a  boat  in  the  ice,  the  boat  must  be 
white.  One  of  any  other  color  could  not  be  con- 
cealed by  ice-cakes.  On  the  other  hand,  you  see 
that  it  requires  only  a  little  disagreeable  work  to 
conceal  a  white  boat  with  sea-weed  right  out  in  the 
bay  or  on  a  point.  When  Jesse  has  done  with  our 
di'essing,  not  many  ducks  ^^^ll  know  us  from  a  bunch 
of  sea-weed  such  as  are  to  be  seen  all  over  the  flats 
at  low  water," 

The  color  of  the  sneak-boxes  was  no  longer  a 
puzzle. 

Meanwhile  Jesse  was  busy  putting  out  the  de- 
coys that  he  had  canned,  piled  up  on  the  forward 
part  of  his  boat.  There  were  about  fifty  of  these, 
representing  ducks  of  different  kinds,  with  a  few 
brant.  Mr.  "Wan-en  told  Rob  that  Jesse  made  all 
his  o\TO  decoys,  and  that  they  were  much  better 
than  any  for  sale  in  the  stores — all  hollow,  of  cedar, 
and  so  ballasted  with  lead  underneath  that  they  rode 
[128] 


DUCK-SHOOTING     OX     BARNEGAT     BAY 

with  the  closest  imitation  to  the  Hve  birds.  Rob 
was  cautioned  by  his  cousin,  and  later  by  Jesse,  not 
to  fire  at  a  duck  while  it  was  among  the  decoys, 
because  it  would  break  Jesse's  heart  to  have  any 
of  the  latter  filled  \dth  shot-holes  and  made 
leaky. 

Each  decoy  was  fastened  to  a  weight  by  a  cord, 
and  Jesse  cast  them  overboard  rapidly,  so  distribut- 
ing them  that  when  he  was  through  with  the  work, 
the  imitation  had  the  most  natui'al  appearance  of  a 
flock  of  real  birds  resting  on  the  water.  Mi*.  War- 
ren pointed  out  that  their  boats  lay  so  that  the 
wind  blew  from  them  to  the  decoys.  The  decoys 
were  placed  in  this  way  because  ducks  always  come 
up  against  the  wind  in  lighting  on  the  water,  and 
this  aiTangement  would  both  place  the  decoys  be- 
tween the  birds  and  the  boats  when  they  came 
toward  the  stools,  and  would  give  the  gunners  the 
best  opportunity  to  shoot.  Thus  was  Rob  initiated 
into  some  of  the  lore  of  duck-shooting. 

Finally   all  their    preparations  had    been   made. 

Jesse  placed  his  boat  on  the  right,  with  Rob's  next, 

and  Mr.  Warren's  to  the   left.     Every  uncovered 

spot  on  the  boats  was  detected  and  concealed  under 

[129] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

the  bayman's  direction.  The  boats  contained  marsh 
hay,  and  when  the  hunters  were  stretched  out  on 
their  backs,  with  their  air-pillows  under  their  heads, 
and  their  blankets  spread  over  them,  they  were  as 
comfortable  as  could  be  desired. 

"  Now,"  said  Jesse  to  Rob,  "  the  one  thing  to  be 
remembered  above  all  others  is  to  keep  close.  I 
have  more  trouble  to  get  city  men  to  do  this  than  I 
do  to  get  birds  for  them,  for  if  they  will  keep  down 
I  can  shoot  the  birds  myself.  We  are  a  bunch  of 
sea-weed  now  to  the  birds  if  our  heads  do  not  stick 
up,  but  if  they  do,  the  birds  will  suspect  right 
away,  and  have  no  use  for  us.  Bend  the  brim  of 
your  hat  down  over  your  eyes,  and  merely  peep 
over  the  stern  of  the  boat.  Just  like  that,"  he 
added,  as  Rob  settled  himself  down. 

Rob  found  many  things  to  interest  him  as  they 
awaited  the  coming  of  day.  On  the  mainland  here 
and  there  a  little  column  of  smoke  would  show  it- 
self, indicating  preparations  for  an  early  breakfast. 
To  the  south  a  few  sails  were  noticed,  belonging  to 
baymen  who  would  probably  try  their  luck  on  the 
main  shore.  A  little  house  on  the  ocean  side  of 
the  beach,  partly  visible,  was  pointed  out  to  Rob 
[130] 


DUCK-SHOOTIXG     ON     BARNEGAT     BAY 

as  the  life-saving  station  of  that  district.  High 
in  the  air  flies  a  swift-winged  bird,  the  first  they 
have  seen — a  loon,  greatest  of  divers,  but  not  classed 
as  a  game-bird  at  all.  "  What  are  those  birds  to 
the  right,  away  out  in  the  bay  .? "  "  Ducks,  but 
not  coming  our  way."  Broad-bills,  Jesse  thinks,  but 
the  light  is  poor  still.  A  low-flying  bird  is  coming 
straight  up  the  bay.  Yes,  it  sees  the  stools. 
"  Head  down,  Rob,  it  is  coming  in.  No,  don't  get 
ready  to  shoot.  It  is  a  saw-bill  (Jesse's  name  for 
shelldrake)  and  no  good."  "  Test  youi*  nerve  on 
it,"  says  Cousin  Dave,  "  and  say  bang  when  you 
would  shot."  "  Bang,"  as  the  bird  swings  up  into 
clear  view.  "  Sit  up  and  look  at  it,  and  see  how 
your  shot  would  have  told."  Rob  finds  that  the 
bird  was  at  least  seventy-five  yards  distant,  when  he 
thouffht  it  was  so  near  that  he  could  blow  it  to 
pieces.  "  Nothing  so  deceptive  as  shooting  over  the 
water."  He  is  never  to  shoot  at  a  flock  until  Jesse 
gives  the  word. 

"  Down  close,"  from  Jesse.     "  There  is  a  bunch 

that    ought   to    see   us.      Yes,  they  do,  broad-bills. 

Pick  out  your  bird  before  you  shoot,  and  take  the 

middle  of  the  flock,  Rob.     Your  cousin  will  take 

[  131  ] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

some  of  the  leaders  and  I  will  try  at  the  rear  birds. 
There  are  two  dozen  of  them." 

Every  nerve  in  Rob's  body  thrilled.  That  mass 
of  wings,  that  inrush  of  the  big  birds — and  how 
big  they  looked — coming  right  at  them,  without  a 
sound.  Why  does  not  Jesse  say  fire  ?  Surely  the 
birds  are  close  on  them.  Jesse  knows  better,  and 
so  does  Cousin  Dave.  The  birds  have  seen  the  de- 
coys, and  the  gunners  can  pick  out  their  time  to 
shoot.  "  Now,"  as  they  catch  the  wind  and  drop 
their  feet,  in  expectation  of  lighting.  At  the  word 
the  three  sit  up,  guns  to  shoulder,  and  there  are 
three  almost  simultaneous  reports.  When  Rob  sat 
up  the  air  in  front  of  him  seemed  full  of  ducks,  and 
his  impulse  was  simply  to  fire  into  the  flock.  But  a 
memory  of  that  story  of  the  Maryland  quail  came 
to  him  in  time,  and  "  pulling  himself  together,"  he 
aimed  at  one  of  the  birds  in  front  of  him,  and  saw 
it  go  down  just  as  Jesse  cried,  "  Now  steady  with 
the  other  barrel ; "  but  he  did  not  bring  down  num- 
ber two. 

"  The  boy  did  well,"  said  Jesse  to  Mr.  Warren. 
"  I  guess  the  three  of  us  will  get  some  birds."  It 
was  Rob's  test.  Had  he  "  gone  to  pieces "  fHid 
[132] 


/ 

■"■  1 

> 

^  ^ 

1 

mrm. 

J  ^ 


'  'ir\im 

■H} 

'^        ^/^ 

ri 

t^ 

''        '  i  fl 

r 

kI     "j.    mRijI 

1 

; 

■y      J       m^^ 

» 

? 

^.n 

m 


DUCK-SHOOTING  ON  BARNEGAT  BAY 

brought  down  nothing,  Jesse's  intei'est  in  the  trip 
would  have  been  greatly  decreased. 

"How  many  did  the  rest  of  you  get?"  asked 
Rob. 

"  Two  with  my  right  and  one  with  my  left,"  said 
Jesse.     "  And  you,  Mr.  Warren  ? "" 

"  Two  with  each." 

"  Sure  you  ain't  counting  some  of  my  birds  ?  ^ 

"  Where  are  yours  ? " 

"  Just  beyond  the  decoys.  One  of  them  is  not 
dead  yet." 

"You  can  see  mine  between  me  and  the  beach. 
I  shot  when  they  had  passed  the  point  of  the 
decoys." 

There  could  be  no  dispute  about  birds  so  well 
distributed,  and  Jesse  pushed  out  his  boat  and 
gathered  them  in.  Eight  birds  out  of  the  first  flock 
was  doing  remarkably  well,  much  better  than  they 
could  expect  to  average. 

Before  they  were  settled  again  another  flock, 
black  ducks,  Jesse  said,  came  within  sight,  but 
changed  their  course.  Several  flocks  were  next 
seen  crossing  the  beach  from  the  ocean,  but  they 
had  their  minds  fixed  on  some  point  up  the  bay, 
[133] 


ROBANDHISGUN 

and  did  not  come  within  sight  of  the  stools.  But 
those  birds  ovei-  there  are  surely  coming.  No,  they 
have  not  seen  the  stools.  They  veer  off  toward 
the  mainland.  Jesse  gives  a  call,  and  they  seem  to 
change  their  course.  Then  he  throws  his  foot  in 
the  air,  in  imitation — a  crude  one,  but  sometimes 
effective — of  a  duck  stretching  its  wings.  Some- 
thing tells,  foot  or  call,  for  the  birds  have  decided 
to  see  what  that  flock  of  apparent  ducks  have  found 
to  feed  on  so  early.  "  Red-heads,  for  sure,"  whis- 
pered Jesse,  as  they  came  up.  Seven  only,  but  red- 
heads. Rob  got  no  direction  this  time  how  to 
shoot.  It  was  "  Now,"  when  the  birds  swung  over 
the  stools,  and  the  three  guns  cracked.  Birds  fell, 
but  Rob  did  not  know  who  had  killed  them,  and  the 
rest  were  so  far  to  the  right  that  he  did  not  fire  his 
second  barrel.  Jesse  did  and  killed  one,  and  Mr. 
Wan-en  screwed  himself  round  on  his  knees  and  took 
a  long  shot  back  of  the  boat,  making  his  bird  stag- 
ger, but  not  stopping  it.  Only  three  of  the  flock 
lay  quiet  among  the  stools.  The  elder  sportsmen 
were  self-critical  about  not  bringing  down  more  of 
them,  explaining  the  result  in  several  ways,  but 
agreeing  that  they  could  have  done  much  better  if 
[  134  ] 


DUCK-SHOOTING     ON     BARNEGAT     BAY 

the  birds  had  not  kept  so  close  together,  and  had 
spread  out  over  the  decoys.  The  killing  of  the 
three  birds  was  not  apportioned,  but  both  the  others 
said  that  it  was  fair  that  Rob  should  have  the  credit 
for  one,  as  he  was  in  the  centre. 

So  the  morning  passed.  The  sky  remained  clouded 
and  the  air  cool,  but,  in  their  boats,  lying  on  the 
hay  and  with  their  blankets  tucked  over  them,  the 
sportsmen  were  very  comfortable,  Jesse  even  com- 
plaining of  being  too  warm.  There  were  almost 
always  some  ducks  in  sight,  but  by  no  means  all  of 
them  came  within  shot.  Rob  "  did  himself  proud," 
as  Jesse  put  it,  by  bringing  down  a  single  mallard, 
the  only  one  they  saw.  It  was  a  beautifully  marked 
duck,  a  species,  Mr.  Warren  told  him,  more  abun- 
dant on  inland  waters  than  along  the  coast. 

About  noon  they  ate  their  lunch,  and  while  they 
were  doing  so  Rob  said,  "  What  about  the  two  geese 
you  killed  off  the  point  we  passed  this  morning. 
Cousin  Dave  ?  " 

"  That,"  said  Mr.  Warren,  "  was  the  only  time  I 

ever  got  the  best  of  Jesse  on  the  bay.     It  was  a 

good   many  years  ago,  the   first  time  I  ever  came 

down  here  in  the  spring  for  geese.     I  got  to  Barne- 

[135] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

gat  one  March  evening,  in  a  rain-storm.  We  stayed 
on  the  yacht  in  the  creek  during  the  night,  and 
sailed  across  the  bay  early  in  the  morning,  anchoring 
about  where  we  did  last  night.  It  still  rained, 
and  we  did  not  go  out  during  the  forenoon  ;  but 
about  one  o'clock  the  boat  swung  round,  indicating 
a  change  of  the  wind,  and  Jesse  told  me  to  get  on 
my  rubber  boots,  predicting  a  movement  of  geese 
that  afternoon.  Before  we  had  reached  the  point 
we  passed  this  morning,  several  flocks  of  geese 
appeared,  and  we  concluded  to  stop  there,  although 
Jesse  wanted  to  shoot  from  a  point  a  mile  beyond, 
saying  that  the  men  from  the  life-saving  station 
were  very  likely  to  go  out  on  the  point  in  front  of 
their  place  to  try  for  a  shot,  and,  if  they  did  so, 
they  would  turn  the  birds  away  from  us.  This  was 
a  good  prediction,  for  the  first  two  flocks  that  ap- 
peared after  we  got  rigged  out  were  shot  at  below 
us,  and  veered  away.  Presently  a  flock  came  into 
view  out  in  the  bay,  and  Jesse  began  honking  to 
them.  You  have  not  heard  Jesse  honk  yet.  They 
do  say  that  if  a  mother  goose  has  a  bird  that  is  not 
a  good  honker  she  brings  it  within  sound  of  Jesse  to 
get  a  lesson.  These  geese  heard  Jesse's  call,  and 
[136] 


DUCK-SHOOTING  ON  BARNEGAT  BAY 

thev  turned  toward  us.  The  tide  had  risen  since  we 
ran  our  boats  ashore,  and  the  stems,  toward  the 
bay,  were  thus  tipped  up  a  little,  concealing  our 
decoys  and  the  nearby  water  fi'om  us  as  we  lay. 
Jesse,  at  that  time,  was  shooting  a  big  eight-gauge 
muzzle-loader,  with  which  he  thought  he  could 
bring  down  a  goose  at  seventy-five  yards. 

"  When  the  geese  loomed  up  before  us,  apparently 
within  range,  Jesse  cried,  '  Give  it  to  them,"*  and  we 
both  rose  and  pulled.  Owing  to  our  position,  the 
birds  were  farther  off  than  they  had  seemed  to  be, 
and  neither  of  Jesse's  shots  told.  Then  came  my 
luck.  AVhile  Jesse  had  been  out  reaiTanging  the 
stools,  a  few  moments  before  these  birds  appeared, 
I  had  lowered  the  hammers  of  my  gun,  as  a  measui'e 
of  safetv,  and  when  he  returned  I  had  forgotten  to 
raise  them.  Therefore,  when  I  pulled  the  triggers, 
neither  barrel  was  discharged.  But  while  we  had 
been  watching  the  birds  in  the  flock,  two  of  their 
number,  flying  low,  had  come  in  unobserved  by  us, 
and  lit  among  the  decoys.  '  Shoot  'em,  shoot  ''em,"' 
cried  Jesse.  Raising  my  hammers,  I  fired  at  each 
of  them  as  they  rose  to  fly,  and  both  di'opped. 
If  my  gun  had  been  cocked,  I,  too,  would  have 
[137] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

fired  at  the  flock,  and  we  Avould  not  have  got  a 
goose."" 

"  I  knew  the  birds  were  broad  off,"  said  Jesse,  by 
way  of  excuse,  "  but  I  expected  those  life-saving  fel- 
lows would  shoot  any  minute,  and  so  I  got  up  too 
quick." 

The  afternoon  flight  was  a  fairly  good  one,  and 
when,  a  little  before  sundo\\Ti,  the  stools  were  taken 
up,  there  was  a  fine  pile  of  ducks  on  the  stern  of  their 
boats.  The  wind  was  in  their  favor,  and  Jesse  put  up 
the  sail  in  his  sneak-box,  and  taking  the  other  two 
in  tow,  they  were  not  long  in  reaching  the  yacht. 
The  little  stove  was  soon  aglow,  and  Jesse  served 
them  a  supper  of  beefsteak  and  boiled  potatoes, 
with  canned  peas  and  coffee,  to  which  they  did  full 
justice. 

The  shooting  the  next  day  was  not  so  good,  but 
they  killed  a  fair  number  of  birds.  When  Rob 
awoke  the  morning  following,  it  was  daylight.  Jesse 
said  that  the  sky  was  so  clear  and  the  air  so  warm 
that  he  did  not  think  they  would  do  much  with  the 
ducks,  and  so  he  had  let  them  sleep.  Mr.  AVarren 
proposed  that  he  take  his  sneak-box  to  some  point 
on  the  beach  and  try  his  luck  alone,  while  Jesse  and 
[138] 


DUCK-SHOOTING  ON  BARNEGAT  BAY 

Rob  ^vent  ofF  by  themselves,  two  boats  making  less 
show  in  the  water  than  three,  and  this  was  agreed  to. 
Jesse  said  there  were  a  good  many  ducks  feeding 
near  the  inlet,  and  he  put  out  the  stools  as  on  the 
first  morning,  on  a  flat,  about  a  mile  from  their  feed- 
ing-ground. It  was  indeed  a  poor  day  for  ducks. 
The  sun  was  bright,  and  scarcely  a  ripple  disturbed 
the  surface  of  the  bay.  In  such  weather  ducks  feed 
at  their  leisure,  and  then  sit  and  sun  themselves  till 
something  distui'bs  them  or  their  mood  changes,  and 
the  hunter's  chance  is  a  poor  one.  For  two  hours 
they  did  not  get  a  shot.  Then  Rob  spied  a  single 
duck  swimming  half  a  mile  away  from  them.  Jesse 
"  reckoned  "  that  it  was  a  black  duck,  but  was  not 
sm-e,  and  at  any  rate  he  did  not  count  on  getting  a 
shot.  But  the  tide  slowly  brought  the  bird  toward 
them,  and  presently  it  was  within  gunshot — a  big 
black  drake.  Rob  said  he  should  like  to  watch  it, 
and  he  thought  that  it  might  prove  a  good  decoy. 
Jesse  let  him  have  his  way,  and  lo  !  the  bird  swam 
right  up  among  the  decoys  and,  tucking  its  head 
under  its  wing,  went  to  sleep !  "  If  that  ain't  im- 
pudence," said  Jesse.  "  It  don't  show  us  the  least 
bit  of  respect." 

[139] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

They  let  it  sleep  awhile,  and  then  Jesse  proposed 
that  Rob  scare  it  up,  and  shoot  it,  saying  that  per- 
haps that  would  bring  them  luck.  So  Rob  stood  up 
in  his  boat  and  shouted,  and  the  amazed  duck  took 
wing,  and  was  knocked  down  very  cleanly.  Jesse 
declared  that  there  was  no  better  "  eating  bird " 
than  a  black  duck,  and  that  half  the  persons  who 
thought  so  much  of  canvas-backs  and  red-heads 
could  not  tell  one  of  these  from  a  black  duck  cooked 
in  the  same  way. 

Toward  noon  Jesse  pointed  out  five  large  birds 
that  were  flying  in  a  southerly  course  far  out  in  the 
bay.  "  Those  are  brant,"  said  he.  "  I  wish  you 
could  get  a  shot  at  them,  but  you  won't." 

"  What  are  brant  ?  "  asked  Rob. 

"  The  brant  is  a  bird  a  good  deal  like  a  Canada 
goose,  but  smaller.  Your  cousin  has  told  me  that 
in  some  of  the  books  it  is  called  a  brant  goose, 
and  that,  in  olden  time,  there  was  a  belief  that  it 
was  hatched  from  a  barnacle  shell  which  grew  on 
water-soaked  logs.  But  I  guess  it  is  hatched  from 
a  brant  egg,  sure  enough.  We  kill  a  good  many  of 
them  at  times,  and  I  think  they  are  fine  birds. 
Their  necks  are  black,  and  they  have  a  white  mark 
[  140  ] 


DUCK-SHOOTING  ON  BARNEGAT  BAY 

at  their  throats.  A  brant  will  weigh  about  four 
pounds.  They  are  a  stupid  sort  of  bird,  too.  If 
a  shot  hits  one,  he  seems  to  give  right  up,  and 
lights  on  the  water  and  hollers,  while  a  goose  will 
carry  off  half  a  load  if  it  does  not  hit  right.  I  do 
believe  those  birds  are  looking  for  company,""  and 
the  bay  man  began  to  honk  at  them. 

Rob  had  never  heard  a  brant  honk,  but  he  was 
quite  willing  to  accept  Jesse's  call  as  a  correct  one, 
and  so  were  these  birds,  for,  after  circling  round  a 
little,  they  dropped  lower  down  and  then  flew  tow- 
ard the  stools.  As  they  approached,  Jesse  said 
they  ought  to  get  them  all,  because,  if  they  killed 
two  apiece  as  they  came  in,  the  other  one  would  not 
fly  away.  But  the  brant,  instead  of  flying  over  the 
decoys  as  Jesse  expected  them  to,  came  in  close  to 
the  water,  and  dropped  down  right  in  the  midst  of 
the  wooden  ducks.  "  Don't  shoot  yet,"  said  Jesse, 
his  precious  decoys  in  his  mind.  "  We  can  choose 
our  shots." 

Rob  now  had  a  fine  opportunity   to   study  the 

shape  and    color  of  the    birds.     Presently   two   of 

them  swam   to   one   side  of  the  decoys,  and  Jesse 

said,  "  If  you  can  get  those  two  heads  in  line,  give 

[141] 


ROB    AND     HIS     GUN 

it  to  them,  and  then  we  can  shoot  as  they  rise." 
Rob  fired  a  moment  later,  and  the  two  birds  he 
aimed  at  on  the  water  stayed  there,  while  the  others 
took  wing.  One  of  these  fell  wounded  but  not  dead 
before  Rob's  second  barrel.  Jesse  did  not  shoot. 
The  generous-hearted  bayman  had  seen  that  the 
birds  were  young  ones,  and,  when  the  boy  had  done 
so  well  with  his  two  shots,  he  determined  to  give 
him  a  chance  to  kill  the  other  two.  The  latter 
flew  off  for  some  distance  and  lit  in  the  bay.  This 
was  what  Jesse  expected. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  I  will  row  around  those  two 
birds,  and  they  will  come  to  stool  again,  and  you 
must  drop  them  both."  His  prediction  was  veri- 
fied. When  the  two  live  brant  took  wing,  they 
flew  directly  for  the  decoys,  and,  making  an  easy 
shot,  Rob  dropped  one  with  each  barrel.  "  Tell 
me  that  that  black  duck  did  not  bring  us  luck," 
said  Jesse.  "  Your  cousin  will  have  to  do  well  to 
beat  you  to-day." 

That  ended  their  luck,  however,  for  that  day,  ex- 
cept that  they  got  three  out  of  a  bunch  of  broad- 
bills  in  the  afternoon.  Jesse  picked  two  of  these, 
and  gave  them  fricasseed  duck  for  dinner,  a  dish  on 
[142] 


DUCK-SHOOTING  ON  BARNEGAT  BAY 

whose  excellence  he  expatiated.  Mr.  Warren  was 
on  board  the  yacht  when  they  arrived.  He  had 
had  poor  luck,  but  could  show  them  one  black 
duck,  one  red-head,  and  two  broad-bills  as  his  con- 
tribution. 

When  they  said  good-by  to  Jesse  at  the  station, 
Rob  declared  that  he  had  had  a  splendid  time,  and 
never  wanted  to  shoot  ducks  with  any  other  guide, 
and  Jesse  said  that  he  had  never  broken  in  a  young 
bay-shooter  who  had  done  so  well  the  first  time. 


[  143  ] 


CHAPTER    IX 

QUAIL-SHOOTING  IN  NORTH  CAROLINA 

MR.  WARREN  had  made  several  trips  to 
North  Carohna  for  quail-shooting  before 
Rob  became  his  companion,  and  one  autumn  he 
proposed  a  visit  there,  where  he  told  Rob  the  birds 
were  much  more  abundant  than  in  the  North.  Be- 
sides, he  said,  it  was  interesting  to  become  acquainted 
with  new  people  and  a  new  country,  and  he  thought 
the  trip  would  be  an  agreeable  one,  aside  from  the 
shooting. 

North  Carolina  may  be  divided  into  three  sec- 
tions :  the  coast  section  (where  the  literal  "  tar 
heels,"  as  North  Carolinians  are  sometimes  nick- 
named, the  turpentine-makers,  dwell),  a  region  of 
low  swamps  and  big  ditches;  the  middle  section, 
flat  and  level,  and  without  scenic  attraction,  but 
dryer ;  and  the  mountain  section  of  the  Avest. 
Their  stopping-place  was  to  be  a  village  in  the 
middle  section,  and  at  the  station  there  one  after- 
[  144  ] 


QUAIL-SHOOTING    IN    NORTH    CAROLINA 

noon  in  November,  they  found  Mose,  an  old  darky 
who  had  waited  on  Mr.  Warren  many  times,  with  a 
team  of  horses  to  convey  them  to  the  house  of  Mr. 
Bulhs,  a  mile  out  of  the  town.  Rob  was  told 
that  Mose  was  a  preacher  of  reputation  among  the 
colored  people,  and  as  efficient  in  noting  the  resorts 
of  quail  as  he  was  in  the  pulpit. 

At  Mr.  Bullis's  house  Rob  found  their  quarters 
to  be  a  big  room  in  a  cottage  situated  a  hundred 
feet  from  the  dwelling.  There  were  two  big  beds 
in  the  room,  and  an  enormous  fireplace,  in  which 
Mose  had  a  welcome  fire  burning.  Mose  declared 
that  "  partridges,"  as  quails  are  called  in  the  South, 
were  "  right  smart  plenty,"  and  he  predicted  very 
good  sport. 

Before  the  sportsmen  were  out  of  bed  the  next 
morning,  Mose  had  a  fire  lighted  on  the  hearth, 
and  promised  them  a  fine  day  for  hunting.  Rob 
now  had  an  illustration  of  the  leisurely  way  in 
which  Southern  people  do  things.  He  and  Mr. 
Warren  were  ready  for  their  breakfast  before  seven 
o'clock,  but  the  cook  was  not.  Mr.  Bullis  came  in 
to  say  that  the  meal  would  be  ready  "  right  away," 
but  it  was  eight  before  they  were  called.  Rob 
[145] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

accounted  for  some  of  this  delay  when  he  saw  the 
table.  A  Southern  breakfast  is  not  a  breakfast 
without  plenty  of  hot  bread,  and  they  had  not  only 
hot  corn-bread  of  the  kind  he  was  acquainted  with, 
but  hot  muffins,  "  egg-bread,"  which  looked  to  him 
like  a  stiff  pudding,  and  after  these  griddle-cakes. 
He  concluded  that  if  the  cook  had  to  make  all  these 
dishes  every  morning,  there  was  a  good  reason  why 
the  meal  was  late.  As  Mr.  Bullis  was  to  accom- 
pany them,  he  was  next  waited  for,  and  when  Mose 
was  sent  to  find  out  what  delayed  him,  he  returned 
with  the  word  that  "  he  was  most  through  havin' 
prayers." 

Finally,  a  little  before  nine  o'clock,  they  moved 
off.  They  had  brought  with  them  two  of  their 
dogs,  RoVs  Cap  and  Mr.  Warren's  Dan,  who  was  a 
fast  ranger,  and  Mr.  Bullis  took  with  him  a  dog  of 
his  own  training  named  Joe,  who  proved  to  be  a 
wide  ranger  and  to  have  a  good  nose,  but  who  had 
about  as  much  idea  of  minding  his  master  as  a 
spoiled  child. 

The   territory  through  which    they  walked  was 
flat,  with  a  good  deal  of  wood-land,  interspersed 
with  fields,  many  of  them  grown  up  with  a  grass 
[  146] 


QUAIL-SHOOTING    IN    NORTH    CAROLINA 

called  broom-sedge,  which  made  excellent  cover,  and 
many  of  them  cultivated  \vith  corn  or  cotton.  Rob 
noticed  that  the  soil  was  thin  and  sandy,  and  that 
only  one  stalk  of  corn  gi-ew  in  a  hill,  instead  of  the 
three  or  four  to  be  found  in  the  North.  Most  of 
the  cotton  had  been  picked,  but  enough  still  re- 
mained in  the  bolls  to  give  him  an  idea  of  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  cotton  field,  and  he  saw  during  the 
day  some  groups  of  ragged  rather  than  pictm-esque 
negroes  at  work  picking. 

Passing  through  a  piece  of  open  pine  woods,  they 
came  to  a  "  branch,"  as  a  gully  through  which  a 
stream  runs  is  called  in  that  part  of  the  country, 
and  there,  Mose  assured  them,  "  a  big  bunch  of 
partridges  uses."  "  Uses  "  was  Mose's  term  for  hav- 
ing a  feeding-ground.  All  the  dogs  were  sent  for- 
ward, and  Joe  took  the  lead,  racing  at  a  pace  which 
led  Rob  to  think  that  he  would  run  over  any  birds 
he  might  come  across.  But  although  Joe  was  not 
trained  as  nicely  as  the  Northern  dogs,  he  knew  his 
business,  and,  while  Rob  was  watching  him,  he  swung 
round  to  the  wind,  slowed  his  pace  and  then  pointed 
toward  a  clump  of  gi-ass.  His  owner,  well  pleased 
that  his  dog  had  found  first,  cried,  "  Joe's  got  'em," 
[  147  ] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

and  they  all  walked  up  to  him.  But  before  they 
got  there,  Cap,  who  was  ranging  to  the  left,  pointed 
also. 

"Well,  Mose,''  said  Mr.  Warren,  "the  birds 
must  be  thick,  if  we  are  to  have  two  points  at 
once."" 

"  I  reckoned  dey  was  right  smart  of  'em,'' 
chuckled  Mose,  taking  the  points  half  to  his  own 
credit. 

Mr.  Bullis  thought  that  Cap  might  be  pointing 
an  "  old  hare "  (a  rabbit  of  any  age  is  an  "  old 
hare  "  in  North  Carolina),  but  as  Mr.  Warren  knew 
that  Rob's  dog  would  not  break  his  point  even 
when  the  men  shot  at  another  flock,  he  suggested 
that  they  see  what  Joe  had  first.  Dan  had  run 
ahead  of  them  and  backed  Joe,  and  they  had  a 
pretty  sight  as  they  advanced.  It  was  evident  from 
the  stiffness  of  the  dog  that  the  birds  were  close  at 
hand,  and  when  the  word  "  Hie  on "  was  given, 
there  was  a  whir  of  wings  that  almost  upset  Rob's 
nerve.  It  was  indeed  a  fine  flock  that  Joe  had 
found,  and  they  made  direct  for  the  cover  of  the 
woods.  Rob  dropped  one  and  missed  one,  Mr. 
Warren  dropped  two,  and  Mr.  BuUis  "thought" 
[148] 


QUAIL-SHOOTING    IN    NORTH    CAROLINA 

that  he  killed  the  one  he  fired  at,  but  the  dogs  did  not 
discover  it.  They  learned  during  the  day  that  their 
host  rarely  missed,  but  that  his  luck  in  finding  his 
birds  was  often  poor.  This  became  a  som'ce  of 
amusement  to  his  companions.  "  Ef  de  ole  man 
could  find  as  good  as  he  can  shoot,"  remarked 
Mose  to  Rob,  "  dere  would  be  a  pile  of  game  in 
his  pockets." 

They  now  went  to  Cap  to  see  what  he  was  point- 
ing, before  following  up  the  other  birds.  He  still 
stood  as  stiff  as  a  rod,  pointing  into  a  little  growth 
of  alders.  "  Step  round  that  side,"  said  Mr.  Warren 
to  Rob,  "and  be  ready  for  a  woodcock."  This 
ad\ace  proved  good,  for,  when  the  dog  was  sent 
forward,  a  fine  cock  rose  and  darted  toward  Rob. 
In  spite  of  his  warning,  Rob  missed  it  with  his 
first  barrel,  but  he  downed  it  with  the  second. 
Mr.  Warren  told  Rob  that  he  had  never  foimd 
many  woodcock  in  that  neighborhood  in  November, 
but  once  killed  a  good  many  in  February,  birds  on 
their  way  North.  Mose  expressed  some  doubts 
about  the  snipe,  as  he  called  it,  being  "  a  good  eat- 
in"*  bird,"  and  was  sorry  that  it  had  not  proved  to 
be  one  of  the  "  old  hares "  which  were  his  own 
[  149  ] 


ROB    AND    HIS    GUN 

great  delicacy,  after  the  possum,  and  which  would 
have  gone  into  his  pocket. 

The  party  now  retraced  their  steps,  to  look  for  the 
scattered  birds  of  the  first  flock.  The  woods  ahead 
were  quite  open,  but  the  pine  needles  underneath 
the  trees  made  a  poor  cover,  and  only  one  bird  was 
found  by  the  dogs  until  they  came  again  to  the 
open.  This  proved  to  be  a  large  field,  tmcultivated, 
and  with  a  good  deal  of  broom-sedge.  Each  dog 
had  a  point  right  away,  and  each  hunter  stepped  up 
to  his  o\\Ti  dog.  This  time  Mr.  Bullis  both  killed 
and  found  his  bird,  and  the  other  two  were  equally 
fortunate. 

But  the  birds  had  scattered  widely,  and  after 
spending  some  time  in  the  field,  and  adding  only 
one  more  to  their  bag,  Mose  said  he  knew  where 
there  was  another  flock  nearby,  and  that  it  was  not 
worth  while  to  waste  more  time  there.  Mr.  Warren 
accepted  this  advice,  but  he  told  Rob  that  it  would 
not  have  been  good  at  home,  where  there  were  fewer 
birds ;  for  it  was  his  experience  in  the  North  that 
the  man  who  got  the  most  birds  was  the  one  who 
stayed  with  a  flock,  once  it  was  flushed,  until  there 
was  no  hope  of  finding  more. 
[150] 


QUAIL-SHOOTING    IN    NORTH    CAROLINA 

In  going  through  a  low-lying  corn-stubble,  Rob 
had  an  opportunity  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  the 
Southern  cockle-bur.  It  grows  in  wet  places,  and  is 
hard,  and  as  big  as  a  man's  thumb.  Rob  could 
easily  imagine  the  plight  of  a  setter  with  its  hair 
matted  with  these  burs.  Presently,  Mose  asked  him, 
"  Do  you  like  'simmons  ? "  Rob  had  never  tasted 
them,  so  Mose  led  him  to  a  tree,  underneath  which 
lay  a  quantity  of  the  fruit,  so  ripe  with  the  frost 
that  almost  every  one  was  burst  open.  These  were 
persimmons,  a  fruit  that  grows  wild  in  the  South  as 
abundantly  as  do  hickory-nuts  and  chestnuts  in  the 
North.  Mose  told  him  they  were  the  "  puckeriest " 
things  imaginable  till  the  fi'ost  ripened  them.  Rob 
found  them  very  much  to  his  taste,  and  he  made  his 
desert  under  a  persimmon -tree  every  day  during  his 
stay,  at  the  noon  lunch.  Mose  also  introduced  him 
to  the  may-pop,  the  fruit  of  the  passion  flower. 
This  was  found  in  cultivated  fields,  resembling  a 
tomato  somewhat  in  appearance,  and  having  a  sweet 
and  pleasant  taste. 

"  Dey's  birds  hereabout,  sure,"  said  Mose,  when 
they  came  to  an  open  country,  after  passing  through 
some  woods.  There  were  no  cultivated  fields  in 
[151] 


ROB    AND    HIS    GUN 

sight,  only  a  big  unfenced  district,  with  plenty  of 
cover  in  the  shape  of  broom-sedge  and  weeds,  and 
with  open  pine  woods  beyond.  It  looked  like  slow 
work  to  find  birds  in  so  much  cover,  and  it  would 
have  been  with  slow  dogs.  But  Joe  and  Dan  were 
used  to  Southern  hunting,  and  Cap  was  not  to  be  left 
behind,  and  away  the  three  went,  quartering  to 
right  and  left,  and  covering  a  big  extent  of  territory 
in  short  order.  Cap  was  the  first  to  make  game, 
slowing  up  and  lashing  his  tail  far  out  in  the  field. 
He  trailed  for  some  distance,  the  birds  apparently 
having  been  feeding  widely,  as  there  was  nothing 
but  the  weed-seeds  for  them  to  eat  there.  At  last 
he  pointed.  Joe  had  come  near  enough  to  back 
him. 

"  Dis  is  mighty  open  shootin",  gemmen,""  said 
Mose,  laughing,  "  an'  I  counts  on  pickin""  up  six 
birds.*"  But  he  did  not  "  count ""  right.  More  than 
a  dozen  birds  got  up,  but  only  four  went  down. 
Mr.  Warren,  with  his  cool  head,  almost  always  got 
two  out  of  a  flock,  and  did  so  this  time.  Mr.  Bul- 
lis  shot  (and  found)  one,  and  Rob  missed  with  his 
second  barrel.  "  How  is  it,  Cousin  Dave,''  he  asked, 
while  the  dogs  were  retrieving  the  birds,  "  that  you 
[152] 


QUAIL-SHOOTING    IN    NORTH    CAROLINA 

kill  two  out  of  a  flock  so  easily,  and  I  so  easily 
miss  one  of  my  two  ?  " 

"  O,  you  must  remember,  that  I  have  shot  a  good 
many  more  years  than  you  have,  for  one  thing. 
Why  do  you  think  you  miss  your  second  bird  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  it  is  because  they  seem  to  be  getting 
away  from  me  so  fast." 

"  Doubtless  that  is  the  root  of  the  trouble.  That 
Mas  what  prevented  your  killing  the  first  bird,  too, 
when  you  began  to  shoot,  as  you  probably  remem- 
ber. AVhen  a  flock  of  quail  get  up  near  a  shooter, 
he  has  plenty  of  time  to  kill  two  birds,  if  he  will 
only  think  so.  The  next  time  we  put  up  a  flock, 
stand  and  observe  them,  without  shooting,  and  you 
will  see  how  long  the  birds,  or  some  of  them,  are 
within  gunshot.  I  have  found,  too,  that  there  are  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  wing-shots.  Some  men  who  shoot 
well  in  the  open  do  not  do  nearly  so  well  in  the 
woods ;  and  I  hunted  in  Maryland  once  with  a  man 
who  Avas  a  good  shot,  but  who  never  even  fired  at 
the  second  bird  when  a  flock  got  up.  I  used  to  advise 
him  to  carry  a  single-barrel  gun.  He  said  that 
when  he  was  younger,  he  used  to  miss  both  birds 
often  when  the  flock  got  up,  and  he  reasoned  it  out 
[153] 


ROB    AND    HIS    GUN 

that  this  was  because  he  was  in  such  a  huiTy  to  fire 
with  both  barrels.  Accordingly,  he  would  put  in 
only  one  cartridge,  and  then  he  found  that  he  had 
no  trouble  to  kill  the  one  bird." 

Mose,  who  was  a  capital  hand  at  marking  the 
birds,  told  them  just  where  the  rest  of  this  flock 
had  gone,  and  they  had  an  hour''s  fine  sport.  Mose 
was  in  luck,  too,  for  he  kicked  an  "  old  hare "  out 
of  the  grass  as  he  and  Rob  were  walking  along, 
which  Rob  shot,  and  his  dinner  was  therefore 
assured. 

Rob  always  found  Mose  very  interesting,  quite  a 
diff*erent  character  from  any  of  the  colored  people  he 
had  known  in  the  North.  He  was  a  slave  before  the 
war,  and  could  not  read  when  he  got  his  freedom. 
Mr.  Bullis  had  taught  him,  and  had  given  him  a 
Bible  of  large  print,  and  this  elevated  him  to  the  dis- 
tinction of  preacher  among  his  people.  While  they 
were  having  lunch  at  noon,  near  a  brook,  Rob  made 
him  the  object  of  some  of  his  questions. 

"  I  hear  you  are  a  preacher,  Mose.  Do  you  get  a 
good  salary  ?  " 

"  My  people  ain''t  got  much  salary  to  give.  I 
depends  mostly  on  collections.  I  preaches  in  de  wil- 
[  154] 


QUAIL-SHOOTING    IN    NORTH    CAROLINA 

lage,  and  in  two  or  tree  oder  places,  and  I  makes  out 
to  keep  de  pot  a  bilin\" 

"  Mose  is  a  farmer,  too,"  said  Mr.  BuUis. 

"  Yes,  I  works  a  steer  farm." 

This,  he  explained  to  Rob,  meant  a  farm  just  big 
enoush  to  be  worked  with  one  steer.  Some  farms 
were  called  one-ox  farms,  and  some  team  farms,  the 
names  designating;  the  number  of  work-animals  used 
on  each. 

"  Dat  steer  of  mine  is  de  finest  animal  in  dese 
parts,"  said  Mose.  "  He  can  trabble,  he  can.  When 
I  goes  to  de  camp-meetin*  he  trabbles  eighteen  miles 
an  hom-." 

Mr.  Bullis  explained  to  Rob  afterward  that  Mose 
meant  to  be  truthful,  but  that  his  miles  were  a  little 
short.     Their  number  was  all  right. 

"I  never  heard  you  preach,"  said  Mr.  Warren, 
"  but  I  am  told  that  you  are  a  great  preacher." 

"  Well,"  said  Mose,  by  no  means  modest,  "  I  was 
a  preachin'  at  de  willage  one  fall  when  some  Nordern 
gemmen  was  here,  and  dey  said  dey  heard  me  mos* 
two  mile." 

Mose  evidently  measured  eloquence  by  sound. 

Luncheon  finished,  Mose  led  the  way  again,  and 
[155] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

then  it  was  discovered  that  Mr.  BulHs^'s  dog  Joe  had 
disappeared.  Calls  and  whistles  did  not  bring  him 
to  them,  and  his  master  finally  declared  there  was 
only  one  explanation  of  this,  and  that  was  that  he 
had  found  birds  and  was  pointing  them.  "  And,  if 
he  is,"  said  he,  "  he  will  stay  with  them  till  they  get 
up  themselves,  if  he  starves  to  death."  The  party 
therefore  divided  to  look  for  the  dog,  as  there  was 
not  the  slightest  intimation  of  the  direction  he  had 
taken.  When  Rob  and  Mose,  who  walked  together, 
had  mounted  a  little  elevation,  giving  them  a  view 
of  a  pretty  large  cotton-field,  Mose  cried  out,  "  De 
ole  man  was  right.  Dere's  Joe  sure  enough,  pointin', 
right  in  de  middle  of  that  cotton-field."  He  had 
probably  been  there  for  some  time,  but  he  showed 
not  the  first  inclination  to  break  his  point. 

Shouting  for  the  others  to  come  up,  when  the  word 
"  Hie  on  "  was  given,  more  than  a  dozen  quail  took 
flight.  Three  of  them  fell  at  the  sound  of  the  guns, 
Mr.  Warren  missing  with  his  second  barrel  and  Mr. 
BuUis  and  Rob  only  firing  with  their  right.  Rob 
experimented  by  aiming  without  firing  his  second 
ban*el,  and  he  told  his  cousin  afterward  that  he 
found  that  he  had  time  to  cover  two  other  birds. 
[156] 


QUAIL-SHOOTING    IX    NORTH    CAROLINA 

The  flock  was  followed  up  with  fair  success,  and  then 
Mose  guided  them  to  other  ground. 

As  they  were  on  the  route  for  home  about  dusk, 
Cap  pointed,  and  Rob,  who  was  some  distance  from 
the  others,  put  up  the  birds  and  fired  at  two.  To 
his  disappointment  neither  of  them  fell.  Mose  was 
ready  to  excuse  the  misses  on  account  of  the  bad 
light,  but  Rob  told  him  that  he  had  a  clear  view  of 
the  birds  and  was  never  cooler  in  aiming.  They 
decided  to  follow  up  these  birds  for  one  more  shot, 
dark  as  it  was  growing.  The  field  was  a  large  one, 
dipping  downward  to  a  branch  on  the  far  side,  and 
when  this  little  declivity  was  reached.  Cap  pointed. 
"  Now,"  said  Mose,  "  you  just  go  round  the  dog,  and 
that  will  fetch  the  bird  between  you  and  the  sunset, 
when  you  put  it  up,  and  you  can  see  better  to  shoot 
it."  Rob  thought  this  a  very  good  scheme,  and  he 
walked  round  Cap,  and  then  approached  him  in  the 
direction  he  was  pointing.  No  bird  arose,  but  Cap 
made  a  little  spiing  forward,  and  picked  up  one  of  the 
birds  at  which  Rob  had  shot.  Delivering  this  to 
Rob,  he  ran  on  about  fifty  feet  and  pointed  again, 
and,  when  Rob  again  walked  up  to  him,  he  picked 
up  a  second  dead  bird. 

[157] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

Rob  congratulated  himself  not  only  on  securing 
two  birds  which  had  flown  so  far  after  being  hard 
hit,  but  on  the  vindication  of  his  aim.  Mose  told 
him  that  his  experience  was  that  a  great  many  birds 
got  away  after  being  hit,  and  he  recalled  the  story 
of  a  young  man  from  the  North  with  whom  he  had 
been  out  some  years  previously.  The  visitor  was 
a  poor  shot,  and  he  hunted  with  two  companions 
who  shot  very  well.  But  he  had  a  slow  dog  which 
was  a  good  retriever,  and,  after  making  a  pretty  clear 
record  of  misses  in  the  forenoon,  and,  having  several 
wounded  birds,  hit  by  the  others,  brought  to  him  by 
his  dog,  he  held  back  in  the  afternoon,  and  marked 
birds  that  the  others  fired  at  and  did  not  drop,  and, 
following  them  up,  went  in  at  night  with  a  bag  of 
six,  only  one  of  which  he  had  shot  himself. 

Mose  had  led  them  a  long  tramp  by  the  time  they 
got  home,  but  Rob  declared  that  he  had  never  en- 
joyed a  day  more,  and  he  thought  that  a  week  in 
North  Carolina  every  fall  would  make  him  a  pretty 
good  quail-shot.  Mr.  Bullis  had  more  invitations 
for  them  from  his  friends,  owners  of  plantations  in 
different  parts  of  the  county,  than  they  could  accept, 
and  on  the  remaining  days  of  their  visit  they  drove 
[158] 


/ 


f^^^fl^-  ■ 


4  ' ' 


^M 


tF 


V     v; 


f 


C'a|>   Dclivcrmii'  a    l-ictricvcil   (^iiail 


QUAIL-SHOOTING    IN    NORTH    CAROLINA 

for  some  distance  to  their  shooting-gi'ounds.  Every- 
where they  found  the  most  open  hospitahty,  and  it 
was  sometimes  difficult  for  them  to  refuse  the  press- 
ing invitation  to  spend  the  night.  Mose  always  ac- 
companied them,  and,  while  he  was  not  so  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  distant  territory  as  he  was  with  that 
nearer  home,  his  "  bird-instinct  ■"  was  always  good, 
and  his  assistance  in  marking  the  birds  was  invalu- 
able. Rob  felt,  when  they  started  for  home,  that 
he  had  made  a  good  many  friends,  and  they  had  to 
promise  that  nothing  but  necessity  would  prevent 
their  repeating  the  visit  the  next  autumn. 


[159] 


CHAPTER  X 

IN  THE  CANADA  BUSH 

ONE  of  Mr.  Wan-en's  acquaintances,  who  had 
been  deer -hunting  in  Canada,  gave  him  such 
glowing  accounts  of  the  deer  there,  that  Mr.  War- 
ren thought  that  the  discomforts  of  the  trip,  which 
were  not  concealed,  would  be  outweighed  by  the 
novelty  of  the  experience,  and  the  quality  of  the 
sport.  The  result  of  much  discussion  of  the  subject 
between  him  and  Rob,  who  at  his  age  cared  nothing 
about  prospective  discomforts,  was  a  decision  to 
make  the  journey.  As  the  French  Canadian  at 
whose  house  they  would  stop  lived  many  miles  from 
the  post-office,  and  visited  it  only  occasionally,  Mr. 
Warren  was  advised  by  his  acquaintance  to  begin 
his  correspondence  about  the  expedition  in  plenty  of 
time,  and  he  accordingly  wrote  in  September,  asking 
Mr.  Lebeau  if  they  could  be  accommodated,  and  if 
he  would  make  all  the  necessary  preparations  as 
regards  dogs  and  boats.  An  answer  came  after 
[160] 


IN    THE     CANADA     BUSH 

a  while,  telling  them  to  come,  and  promising  to  have 
everything  in  readiness  and  to  give  them  some 
excellent  shooting. 

Accordingly,  a  November  afternoon  found  om* 
sportsmen  landing  at  Kingston,  Ontario,  from  the 
boat  that  had  conveyed  them  from  Cape  Vincent, 
New  York.  They  were  now  on  foreign  soil,  and 
had  a  custom-house  first  to  deal  with.  As  each  of 
them  had  a  gun  and  a  rifle,  they  were  required  to 
make  a  deposit  on  these,  which  would  be  returned 
when  they  came  back  to  the  city  and  departed  again 
for  the  States.  Their  trunks,  of  which  they  had 
two  small  ones,  were  not  opened,  the  officers  tak- 
ing their  word  that  they  contained  nothing  duti- 
able. 

Learning  that  their  train  would  not  start  until 
about  four  o'clock,  they  spent  the  intervening  time 
making  purchases  of  such  stores  as  they  thought 
thev  should  need,  and  looking  over  the  town.  Their 
shopping  was  not  so  successful  as  it  would  have  been 
had  they  an-ived  on  a  "  market  day."  They  were 
informed  that  the  country  people  had  a  stated  day, 
or  days,  for  bringing  in  their  produce,  and,  as  they 
had  not  arrived  on  one  of  these  days,  they  could  get 
[161  J 


ROB     AN  D     HIS     GUN 

neither  eggs  nor  butter.  If  they  had  known  what 
was  ahead  of  them  they  would  have  been  more  lib- 
eral purchasers,  but  they  now  satisfied  themselves 
with  some  bacon,  crackers,  and  sardines.  If  they 
had  added  to  these  coffee  and  a  ham,  their  futm"6 
larder  would  have  been  much  more  tempting. 

Rob  found  Kingston  on  a  cold  and  cloudy  No- 
vember day  about  as  gloomy  a  place  as  he  had  ever 
seen,  its  gray  stone  houses  adding  to  its  sombre 
appearance,  and  a  short  drill  by  the  red-coated 
troops  at  the  fort  affording  all  there  was  to  see  in 
the  way  of  entertainment. 

The  Kingston  and  Pembroke  Railroad  at  that 
time  did  not  rely  very  much  on  passenger  traffic,  its 
main  business  being  the  hauling  of  ore  from  iron 
mines,  and  lumber  from  the  forest  along  its 
route.  Passengers  were  not,  therefore,  looked  out 
for  with  any  special  care.  So  our  travellers  found 
their  train  made  up  of  one  so-called  passenger  car, 
that  would  not  have  done  duty  as  a  smoker  on  any 
road  they  were  acquainted  with  in  the  States,  and  a 
number  of  empty  freight  and  platform  cars,  before 
and  behind  it.  Soon  after  they  started  it  began 
to  rain,  and  as  their  route  was  through  an  utterly 
[  162] 


IN    THE     CANADA     BUSH 

uninteresting  wooded  country,  the  trip  lacked  every 
element  of  enjoyment. 

After  four  hours  of  very  slow  travelling,  and  when 
it  was  quite  dark,  they  came  to  the  close  of  their 
journey  for  that  day,  a  place  called  Mississippi 
(there  is  a  Mississippi  River  in  Canada,  too),  the  end 
of  that  division  of  the  railroad,  where  they  would 
spend  the  night.  A  more  desolate  place  could  not 
be  imagined,  with  a  hotel  of  rough,  unpainted  boards, 
a  hut  for  a  station,  and  a  few  dwellings  of  the  same 
character  to  constitute  the  settlement.  But  they 
had  to  make  the  best  of  the  accommodations,  and 
sat  down,  hungry,  to  a  supper  of  cold  fish,  and  poor 
bread  and  butter,  and  something  called  tea  to  wash  it 
down  with.  Their  company  at  table  was  half  a  dozen 
very  rough-looking  miners,  who,  they  heard,  would 
be  guests  of  the  hotel  over  night.  "\Mien  they  were 
shown  to  their  room,  its  two  beds  looked  very  unin- 
viting, and  there  was  no  lock  to  the  door.  They 
made  the  best  of  the  beds,  however,  and  piled  two 
chairs  before  the  door  as  a  precaution,  and  so  passed 
the  night  with  no  other  disturbance  than  that 
caused  by  some  insect  bedfelloAvs. 

After  a  breakfast,  the  most  tempting  feature  of 
1  163  ] 


BOB     AND     HIS     GUN 

which  was  some  greasy  fried  pork-chops,  they  en- 
tered the  cars  again  to  complete  their  raihoad 
journey.  At  the  depot  they  discovered  that  their 
box  of  supplies  purchased  at  Kingston  had  been  left 
behind,  and  it  did  not  reach  them  for  three  days. 
Less  than  an  hour's  ride  brought  them  to  the  place 
where  Mr.  Lebeau''s  wagon  was  to  meet  them,  but 
no  wagon  was  to  be  seen.  The  only  houses  there 
were  a  rough  shanty,  which  they  learned  was  a 
loggers'  boarding-house,  when  there  were  any  board- 
ers, a  little  store  kept  by  a  Scotchman,  and  the 
depot.  The  station-agent  said  that  he  knew  Le- 
beau,  but  that  his  place  was  some  fifteen  miles  dis- 
tant, and  that  his  wagon  need  not  be  looked  for  for 
some  hours  to  come.  Of  course  there  was  nothing 
to  do  but  to  wait. 

The  morning  passed  without  the  approach  of  a 
single  vehicle  to  the  settlement.  At  noon  a  team 
was  seen  advancing  down  the  road  and  our  travel- 
lers' hearts  were  cheered,  but  it  proved  to  belong  to 
an  Irish  settler,  who  was  driving  to  the  depot  for 
some  freight.  He  was  of  an  encouraging  disposi- 
tion, and  assured  them  of  his  belief  that  their  host 
would  send  for  them  if  he  had  promised  to  do  so. 
[  164] 


IN    THE     CANADA     BUSH 

Before  he  left,  an  arrangement  was  made  with  him 
that,  if  the  expected  conveyance  did  not  arrive  by 
one  o'clock,  he  would  take  them  to  their  destination. 
To  spend  the  night  where  they  were  was  not  to  be 
thought  of.  A  little  before  one  o'clock  another 
wagon  drove  up.  The  travellers  did  not  think 
that  this  could  be  Lebeau's,  as  it  had  no  seat,  the 
driver  sitting  on  the  springless  bottom  on  his  horse- 
blankets.  But  they  were  mistaken.  This  was  to 
convey  them  to  their  stopping-place.  The  driver, 
who  had  been  hired  to  come  for  them,  proved  to  be 
a  surly  fellow,  and  the  only  information  they  could 
obtain  from  him  about  the  time  of  their  departure 
was  that  it  would  be  after  he  had  fed  his  horses 
and  himself.  He  went  to  the  boarding-house  for 
his  meal,  and  Mr.  Warren  and  Rob  made  a  call 
on  the  Scotchman,  and  stayed  their  stomachs  on 
some  of  his  crackers  and  cheese. 

When  they  were  ready  to  start,  and  the  driver 
was  asked  where  his  seat  was,  he  replied  that  he 
could  "  borrow  a  board."  And,  indeed,  had  they 
had  no  trunks,  an  unplaned  board  laid  lengthwise 
would  have  been  their  only  seat  for  a  long,  rough 
ride.  But  the  trunks  were  flat-topped,  fortunately, 
[165] 


ROB     AND     HISGUN 

and,  with  a  horse-blanket  for  a  cover,  they  made  a 
fairly  comfortable,  if  backless,  seat.  Their  route 
lay  through  a  featureless  country,  most  of  it  still 
"  bush,"  as  the  native  forest  is  there  called.  There 
seemed  no  reason  to  doubt  the  driver's  assertion 
that  there  were  plenty  of  deer,  since  there  were  few 
houses,  and  they  passed  through  only  one  small 
settlement. 

About  five  o'clock,  as  they  came  in  sight  of  a 
house,  the  driver  announced  that  this  was  Lebeau's. 
It  was  the  best-looking  dwelling  they  had  seen  that 
day.  Built  of  squared  logs,  it  was  plastered  inside 
and  out,  and  contained  ten  rooms  in  all,  Mr.  Lebeau 
having  five  sons  at  home  to  provide  with  lodgings. 
The  old  gentleman,  who  spoke  with  a  decided 
French  accent,  gave  them  a  warm  welcome,  and 
soon  had  their  trunks  unloaded,  and  escorted  them 
to  their  rooms.  Of  the  latter  it  may  be  said  that 
they  were  small  but  comfortable,  and  that,  while 
the  mattresses  on  the  beds  were  of  straw,  the  beds 
were  clean  and  the  covers  were  abundant.  They  told 
him  of  their  long  fast,  and  supper  was  promised  as 
soon  as  Mrs.  Lebeau  could  prepare  it.  This  supper 
proved  a  trial  to  Rob.  It  consisted  of  a  big  yellow 
[166] 


IN    THE     CANADA     BUSH 

dish  containing  fat  side-pork,  salt,  swimming  in  its 
grease,  potatoes,  bread  and  butter  and  tea.  Hungry 
as  he  was,  Rob  could  not  dispose  of  his  piece  of 
pork,  and  he  had  to  make  out  on  potatoes  and 
bread  and  butter. 

The  little  dining-room  and  the  uncarpeted  sit- 
ting-room adjoining  were  both  warmed  with  the 
same  stove,  which  sat  in  an  opening  in  the  partition 
between  them.  A  number  of  loggers  arrived  by 
evening,  on  their  way  to  a  lumber-camp,  so  that 
every  chair  in  the  sitting-room  was  occupied.  The 
evening  was  cold  and  the  stove  w^as  kept  almost  red, 
in  order  to  perform  the  double  duty  required  of  it, 
and  every  man  smoked  a  pipe.  Although  Rob  did 
not  smoke,  he  had  thought  he  was  smoke-proof,  but 
the  air  of  that  room  soon  got  too  thick  for  him, 
and  he  stepped  to  the  door  for  a  breath  of  purer  at- 
mosphere. "Leave  the  door  open,  lad,"  said  Mr. 
Lebeau,  "  the  boys  do  keep  up  pretty  good  fires  in 
their  pipes."  Thus  was  set  the  programme  for  the 
evening  :  first,  the  room  made  dense  with  the  smoke, 
and  hot,  then  the  opened  door,  till  it  became  too 
cold  for  comfort,  and  then  a  filling  up  again  with 
smoke. 

[  167  J 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUK 

Mr.  Lebeau  had  a  disappointment  for  them  at  the 
start.  He  confessed  that  his  boys  did  not  own  a 
canoe,  and  had  only  one  deer-hound,  and  that  was 
lame.  He  had  engaged  a  man  from  near  the  sta- 
tion, who  owned  a  good  canoe  and  several  hounds 
(the  one  who  had  hunted  with  Mr.  Warren's  friend), 
to  accompany  the  new-comers  ;  but  there  had  been  a 
dispute  between  him  and  one  of  the  Lebeau  boys, 
and  he  had  not  kept  his  engagement.  What  were 
they  to  do  ?  He  thought  they  would  better  send 
one  of  the  boys  the  next  morning  to  try  to  buy  a 
canoe,  and  he  assured  them  that  the  deer  were  so 
thick  that  they  would  be  certain  to  kill  some  on 
runways. 

As  we  know,  Mr.  Warren  did  not  kill  deer  by 
rowing  up  to  them  in  the  water,  when  he  was  out 
for  sport ;  but  he  saw  that  venison  must  be  their 
only  dependence  for  fresh  meat,  and  that  their 
hound  output  was  poor.  So  he  decided  to  let  the 
son  go  for  a  canoe. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  the  visitors  spent 

it  in  taking  a  tramp  with  the  eldest  Lebeau  lad  as 

guide.     This  son's  name  was  Elijah,  but  the  family 

all  called  him  Lujer.    He  was  a  good-natured  fellow, 

[168] 


IN    THE     CANADA     BUSH 

possessed  of  a  good  deal  of  wood  craft,  and  a  pair  of 
legs  that  seemed  incapable  of  tiring,  as  they  found 
before  their  stay  was  over.  He  blamed  his  father 
for  not  making  better  preparations  for  his  guests, 
but  said  that  his  younger  brother  owned  a  collie 
that  was  a  good  deer-tracker  as  long  as  it  did  not 
tire  out,  explaining  that  he  always  ran  with  it  to 
keep  up  its  ambition.  With  this  dog  and  his  own 
hound  he  promised  to  get  them  some  shots  at  deer 
without  fail.  In  their  walk  they  did  rouse  a  deer 
from  the  bush,  but  they  only  heard  it,  the  dense 
growth  beneath  the  trees  cutting  off  all  the  view. 

It  gi-ew  very  cold  that  night,  and  when  Rob 
awoke  on  Monday  morning  the  glass  in  his  window 
was  thick  with  frost.  Pat,  the  son  who  had  gone  to 
secure  a  canoe,  and  who  had  been  allowed  to  carry 
Rob''s  rifle,  had  not  returned,  and  his  mother  was 
loud  in  her  lamentations,  declaring  that  he  had  been 
drowned  in  crossing  a  lake.  Mr.  Lebeau  was  very 
comforting  in  his  assurances  that  they  could  get  a 
deer  at  the  "  pine-stump  runway,*"  a  location  near 
which  he  had  killed  one  some  ten  years  previously, 
and  after  breakfast  (of  salt  pork  in  the  yellow  dish) 
the  two  set  out,  with  Lujer  as  guide.  A  walk  of 
[i69] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

two  miles  brought  them  to  a  big  opening,  known 
there  as  a  bride — a  burned  space — the  track  of  a 
forest  fire  of  many  years  previous,  studded  with 
blackened  stumps  and  logs,  and  grown  up  with  weeds 
and  grass.  These  brides  are  favorite  feeding-places 
for  deer,  and  Lujer  hoped  to  start  one  there  or  in  a 
swamp  of  evergreens  just  beyond. 

The  collie  would  stay  behind  them,  but  the  hound 
had  to  be  led  by  a  strap  until  the  hunting-ground 
was  reached.  Wlien  they  arrived  in  the  middle  of 
this  brtde,  which  was  cut  up  into  ridges  and  hollows, 
the  hound  became  very  uneasy,  and,  tugging  at  the 
strap,  slipped  the  collar  over  its  head,  and  away  it 
went.  This  was  not  according  to  Lujers  notion, 
and,  laying  down  the  shotgun  which  he  carried,  he 
started  over  logs  and  stumps  after  the  dog.  When 
he  arrived  at  the  top  of  the  ridge  in  fi-ont  of  him, 
they  saw  him  wave  his  arms  and  he  called,  "  Hurry 
up  here,  hurry  as  fast  as  you  can."  Mr.  Warren 
and  Rob  obeyed  to  the  best  of  their  ability,  but 
when  they  arrived  where  Lujer  was  standing,  noth- 
ing was  to  be  seen.  "  What  was  it  ?  *"  they  asked. 
"  O,"  said  he,  "  when  I  got  here  a  big  buck  was 
standing  right  by  that  old  stump  below  there.  You 
[170] 


IX    THE     CANADA     BUSH 

could  have  shot  it  sure/'  The  hound  had  scented 
the  buck,  and  buck  and  hound  had  disappeared  in 
the  before-mentioned  swamp. 

Lujer  explained  that  he  had  intended  to  place 
the  hunters  on  two  runways  before  letting  loose  the 
dos:,  and  now  he  feared  the  deer  would  not  come 
near  them.  As  they  spoke,  the  dog  was  giving 
tongue,  and  lo,  out  of  the  swamp,  half  a  mile  ahead 
of  them,  came  one  deer  after  another,  until  six  of 
the  beautiful  animals  were  in  sight  loping  up  a 
declivity,  and  disappearing  in  the  bush.  Lujer 
leaped  up  and  down  and  howled  out  his  disappoint- 
ment, while  Mr.  Warren  and  Rob  consoled  them- 
selves ^vith  the  sight  of  six  deer  at  once,  waving 
their  "  flags,"  as  their  tails  are  called  by  sportsmen, 
and  affording  so  rare  a  sight.  Both  declared  that 
this  exhibition  in  itself  was  worth  the  walk,  but  Rob 
did  regret  missing  the  chance  of  a  shot,  and  Lujer 
was  not  to  be  consoled. 

After  a  consultation,  Lujer  said  that  he  would 
place  the  hunters  on  two  good  runways,  and  would 
try  to  get  ahead  of  these  deer,  as  he  did  not  think 
they  had  gone  very  far,  not  ha\'ing  been  shot  at. 
"  But  how  about  the  hound  ?  "  asked  Mr.  WaiTen. 
[171] 


RO  B     AND     HIS     GUN 

"  O/'  said  Lujer,  "  hell  get  tired."  Perhaps  this 
was  comforting.  As  there  was  nothing  better  to 
propose,  Lujer  was  allowed  to  carry  out  his  plan. 

Mr.  Warren  was  placed  on  a  ridge,  out  in  the 
hruU,  near  the  place  where  the  deer  broke  cover,  and 
Rob  was  told  to  conceal  himself  in  a  clump  of  trees, 
which  commanded  a  view  of  a  little  valley  running 
off  to  the  woods  on  the  left.  Then  Lujer,  with  the 
collie,  plunged  into  the  brush.  It  was  a  long  wait. 
Rob  found  it  very  chilly,  standing  where  the  wind 
had  full  sweep,  and  was  compelled,  after  a  time,  to 
make  himself  more  comfortable  by  crouching  down 
behind  a  big  rock.  More  than  an  hour  after  Lujer 
had  left  them,  as  he  sat  there,  he  thought  he  heard 
a  cracking  of  branches  in  the  woods  below  him.  He 
tried  hard  to  distinguish  something  in  the  dense 
gi-owth,  but  in  vain,  although  every  now  and  then 
the  sound  would  reach  him,  as  if  some  animal  was 
moving  about.  It  might  be  the  hound,  he  knew, 
and  it  might  be  Lujer.  He  hoped  it  was  a  deer, 
and  that  it  would  come  his  way.  As  Pat,  the  son 
who  had  gone  for  a  canoe,  had  Lis  rifle,  he  was 
armed  with  his  ten-bore  duck-gun,  loaded  with  buck- 
shot, and  he  felt  no  doubt  of  his  ability  to  bring 
[172] 


IN     THE     CANADA     BUSH 

down    any  deer   that  came   within   reasonable  dis- 
tance. 

Then  the  sound  ceased  for  some  time,  and  he 
concluded  that  the  animal,  whatever  it  was,  had 
gone,  when  right  in  front  of  him  came  the  sharp 
bark  of  the  collie,  and  out  of  the  bush  ran  a  beauti- 
ful yearling  buck.  As  he  learned  afterward,  this 
buck  was  not  of  the  number  of  those  that  they  had 
first  seen,  but  had  moved  out  of  the  bush,  where  it 
had  passed  the  night,  of  its  own  accord,  and  the  collie 
had  crossed  its  trail  and  turned  it  as  Lujer  was  re- 
turning from  a  futile  attempt  to  head  off  the  herd 
of  deer. 

The  collie  was  a  slow  runner,  and  the  buck  took 
a  moderate  pace,  directing  its  course  toward  the 
swamp  out  of  which  the  other  deer  had  been  started. 
But  instead  of  entering  this  swamp,  it  turned  again, 
and  ran  through  a  hollow  that  brought  it  between 
Mr.  Warren  and  Rob,  too  far  for  the  latter  to  reach 
it  with  buckshot,  but  within  fair  rifle  range  of  his 
cousin.  Now,  to  shoot  a  running  deer  with  a  rifle, 
even  if  it  is  not  going  at  full  speed,  is  easier  to  be 
described  by  story-writers,  whose  heroes  are  the 
marksmen,  than  to  accomplish  in  fact;  and  this 
[  173  ] 


ROB     AND     HIS    GUN 

is  not  a  story  of  fiction.  It  must  be  admitted, 
therefore,  that  at  the  first  shot  of  Mr.  Warren  the 
deer  received  no  injury ;  the  crack  of  the  rifle  did 
not  even  accelerate  its  speed.  Again  he  fired,  and 
again  the  deer  escaped.  But  now  it  came  to  a  place 
where  the  fallen  logs  were  thicker,  and  where  it  was 
necessary  for  it  to  make  a  higher  and  a  shorter  leap, 
and  when  the  rifle  cracked  a  third  time,  down  went 
the  buck, 

Lujer,  who  had  kept  in  the  bush  meanwhile,  but 
had  watched  the  proceedings  with  interest,  gave  one 
of  his  shouts,  and  was  by  the  deer  almost  as  soon  as 
Mr.  Warren.  The  necessary  dressing  was  accom- 
plished by  him  in  a  few  moments,  and,  with  the  buck 
across  his  shoulders,  the  party  turned  their  steps 
homeward,  well  satisfied  with  the  morning's  result. 

And  what  a  supper  that  night !  Out  of  the 
tenderest  part  of  the  back,  Mr.  Warren  cut  a  pile 
of  chops  that  was  big  enough  to  feed  a  dozen  men 
at  home,  and,  presiding  at  the  stove  himself,  with 
the  aid  of  a  wire-broiler  he  produced  a  dish  that 
would  have  tempted  any  good  liver,  even  if  he  had 
not  been  sitting  before  stewed  side-pork  for  two  days. 
The  question  of  meat  supply  was  solved. 
[174] 


IN     THE     CANADA     BUSH 

Pat  returned  that  night,  in  a  snow-storm,  ^v^th- 
out  any  canoe.  He  had  been  unable  to  buy  one, 
and  Mr.  Warren  had  his  doubts  if  he  had  gotten 
farther  than  the  first  pubhe-house. 

It  snowed  all  night,  but  cleared  off  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  Lujer  expressed  great  confidence  in  his 
ability  to  get  Rob  a  shot  by  tracking  in  the  snow. 
So  he  and  Rob  started  out  to  take  one  course,  while 
Mr.  Warren,  guided  by  Pat,  was  to  take  another, 
the  two  parties  to  meet  at  a  designated  point. 

Lujer  directed  his  course  in  the  same  direction  as 
on  the  previous  day,  but,  before  reaching  the  hriiU^ 
plunged  into  a  low-lying  growth  of  evergreens.  His 
judgment  in  so  doing  was  questionable,  since  the 
woods  were  so  thick  that,  if  he  had  started  a  deer, 
as  he  was  quite  likely  to  do,  they  would  probably  not 
have  gotten  a  shot.  The  walking,  too,  was  terrible, 
soft  under  foot,  and  with  the  snow  sifting  down  their 
backs  from  the  thickly  laden  branches.  Lujer  him- 
self soon  got  enough  of  this,  and,  breaking  out  of 
the  woods,  led  the  way  to  an  open,  hilly  district, 
where  there  was  some  chance  of  seeing  a  track  on  the 
gi'ound. 

And  tracks  soon  appeared.     There  were  unques- 
[175] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

tionably  a  great  many  deer  in  that  country,  and 
three  had  passed  across  an  opening  that  morning. 
Rob  wore  over  his  trousers  a  pair  of  canvas  over- 
alls, that  made  a  grating  noise  as  he  walked,  and 
Lujer  advised  him  to  take  these  off,  to  insure 
greater  silence.  This  done,  they  advanced  with 
caution  to  the  crest  of  a  ridge,  when  Lujer  grasped 
Rob's  shoulder  and  pulled  him  down.  "  Do  you  see 
them  ? "  he  asked,  pointing  to  a  little  valley  ahead 
of  them.  Rob  did  the  best  looking  he  was  capable 
of,  but  no  deer  met  his  eye.  "  Three  of  them," 
whispered  Lujer;  "right  by  the  big  stump."  But 
Rob's  eyes  were  not  adjusted  to  deer.  In  fact,  not- 
withstanding the  sight  of  the  one  he  had  seen  as  it 
ran  in  the  Adirondacks,  he  looked  for  something  a 
good  deal  bigger,  and  the  little  brown  things  stand- 
ing so  quietly  two  hundred  yards  beyond,  escaped 
him.  "  Let  me  take  your  rifle  and  Til  get  one 
sure,"  said  Lujer,  whose  faith  in  his  own  ball-loaded 
shotgun  never  was  large,  and  Rob  handed  over  the 
weapon.  The  rifle  cracked.  Three  deer,  all  does, 
ambled  away.  Tmo  more  shots  rang  out,  but  no 
deer  took  notice  of  them. 

"  You  missed  them  all,"  said  Rob. 
[176] 


IN     THE     CANADA     BUSH 

"Not  much,"  declared  Lujer.  "Come  down 
there  and  I'll  show  you." 

^^^len  they  got  to  the  place  where  the  deer  had 
stood,  Lujer,  by  careful  search,  was  able  to  show 
Rob  one  little  speck  of  blood  on  the  snow.  This 
satisfied  him  that  his  bullet  had  gone  into  some 
vital  spot,  and  he  assui-ed  Rob  that  he  would  be 
able  to  run  down  the  wounded  deer  in  a  short  time. 
So  he  placed  Rob  by  a  big  tree  in  the  nearby 
woods,  telling  him  he  might  get  a  shot  at  deer 
which  he  (Lujer)  was  liable  to  start,  and  promising 
not  to  leave  him  there  longer  than  half  an  hour. 

But  one  hour  passed,  and  then  a  good  part  of 
another,  and  the  boy  was  miserably  cold.  The 
snow  was  half-knee  deep,  and  he  was  so  anxious  not 
to  lose  a  possible  shot  that  he  did  not  like  even  to 
tramp  around  to  get  up  his  circulation.  But  his 
ambition  yielded  in  time,  and,  gathering  some  dead 
evergreens,  he  applied  a  match  to  them,  and  in  a  few 
moments  had  a  glowing  fire.  Then  he  heard  a  call, 
and,  answering  it,  was  soon  joined  by  his  cousin  and 
Pat.  Thev,  too,  had  seen  tracks,  but  they  had  not 
had  a  sisht  of  a  deer,  "^^^len  Pat  was  told  where 
Lujer  had  gone,  he  declared  that  they  would  be 
[177] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

fortunate  if  they  saw  him  by  night,  as  he  was  more 
determined  than  a  hound  when  he  got  on  track  of  a 
deer. 

But  Lujer  reappeared  while  they  were  eating 
their  lunch.  He  came  empty-handed,  vowing,  how- 
ever, that  his  deer  had  bled  for  miles,  but  being  un- 
able to  keep  up  with  her. 

Then  Mr.  Warren  made  a  proposition.  It  was 
that  Lujer  should  retui-n  to  the  house  for  the  dogs 
and  put  these  out  in  the  swamp  from  which  the  six 
deer  had  run  the  day  before,  while  he  and  Rob, 
with  Pat  as  director,  would  station  themselves 
where  they  would  be  most  likely  to  get  a  shot.  To 
this  Lujer  agreed,  and  oflP  they  started,  Rob  ex- 
pressed a  liking  for  the  top  of  the  ridge  over  which 
the  six  deer  had  disappeared,  and  Pat  agreed  with 
him  that  that  would  be  a  likely  place  to  get  a  shot. 
When  they  came  to  the  hrHUy  Rob  said  he  would 
select  his  own  place  of  concealment  on  the  ridge, 
and  Mr.  Warren  and  Pat  took  their  station  out  on 
the  other  side  of  the  brMe  where  they  would  com- 
mand a  little  valley. 

When  Rob  got  to  the  top  of  his  ridge  he  found 
that  it  dropped  very  precipitously  on  the  far  side, 
[178] 


IN    THE     CANADA     BUSH 

the  valley  beneath  being  narrow.  He  argued, 
therefore,  that,  if  a  deer  took  the  course  of  the  day 
before,  the  place  for  him  to  stand  was  near  the  top 
of  this  ridge,  and  he  selected  a  position  which  gave 
him  a  view  of  the  hrule  and  the  swamp.  Breaking 
off  a  branch  of  pine,  he  swept  a  place  fi-ee  of 
snow  for  his  feet,  and,  having  a  rock  as  a  partial 
shelter  from  the  wind,  he  was  ready  to  await  a 
sound  of  the  dogs. 

Lujer  had  some  distance  to  go  to  the  house,  and 
when  he  got  there  he  solaced  himself  with  a  little  of 
the  pork  stew  and  some  hot  tea.  Then  he  found  it 
slower  work  to  lead  the  old  hound  than  to  take  his 
own  natural  gait ;  and  so  it  happened  that  Rob 
waited  a  long  time  before  anything  occurred  to  in- 
terest him.  At  one  time  he  was  entertained  by  the 
calling  of  one  of  the  big  woodpeckers  that  he  had 
seen  in  the  Adirondacks,  but  it  did  not  come  within 
sight.  He  imagined  different  directions  in  which 
a  deer  might  appear,  and  he  took  imaginary  shots 
at  it.     And  all  the  time  he  was  very  cold. 

But  at  last  he  heard  what  they  were  waiting  for, 
the  baying  of  a  hound.  It  came  from  the  swamp, 
and  Rob  took  position,  ready  to  do  his  part. 
[179] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

When  he  could  locate  the  direction  of  the  hound's 
movements,  he  decided  that  it  was  going  through  the 
swamp  lengthwise  instead  of  approaching  him,  and 
his  hopes  were  dampened.  Finally  the  baying 
ceased  entirely.  But  it  was  soon  followed  by  the 
sharper  barking  of  the  collie,  and  then  his  hopes 
rose  again.  This  barking  took  a  direction  to  his 
right,  but  it,  too,  soon  ceased.  Thinking  that  the 
deer  might  turn  and  pass  through  the  valley  just 
behind  him,  Rob  ascended  the  ridge  and  watched 
for  some  time  both  ways.  But  it  was  cold  and 
windy  there,  and  after  a  time  his  hope  deserted 
him,  and  he  went  down  again  behind  his  rock. 

Scarcely  had  he  regained  his  old  station  when 
the  barking  of  the  collie  reached  his  ears,  coming 
from  the  valley  behind  him.  Had  he  only  remained 
on  top  of  the  ridge !  But  to  go  back  might  turn 
the  deer  away  again.  Now  the  collie  seemed  to  be 
climbing  up  from  the  valley.  There  was  a  breaking 
of  brush  ahead.  Something  was  making  its  way 
over  the  ridge.  Another  moment,  and  a  magnifi- 
cent doe  broke  cover  and  went  bounding  down 
toward  the  swamp  in  gi-aceful  leaps. 

If  RoVs  gun  had  been  loaded  with  buckshot  then, 
[  180  ] 


IN     THE    CANADA     BUSH 

he  would  have  had  no  fears  for  the  result  of  his 
shot.  Whether  he  could  bring  down  the  doe  with 
the  rifle  as  it  leaped,  was  to  him  a  more  doubtful 
question.  But  the  lad  was  pretty  cool.  Drop- 
ping on  one  knee,  he  aimed  and  fired.  Too  high 
or  too  low.  The  shot  missed.  But  it  was  not 
wasted.  The  deer  had  been  paying  attention  only 
to  the  dog  in  her  rear,  and  the  crack  of  the  rifle, 
coming  from  some  unknown  source,  puzzled  her. 
To  locate  it,  she  paused  a  moment  in  her  flight.  A 
second  sufficed  for  Rob  to  pump  another  cartridge 
into  the  rifle-chamber  and  to  aim  behind  her  fore 
shoulder,  and  with  the  somid  her  legs  doubled  imder 
her  and  her  flight  was  over. 

The  young  sportsman  was  by  her  side  in  an  in- 
stant, ready  to  repeat  the  shot  if  it  was  necessary, 
but  it  was  not.  The  collie  came  up  and  sniff'ed  at 
the  deer,  and  then  lay  down,  satisfied  with  his  part 
of  the  work.  Presently  Lujer  with  Mr.  Warren  and 
Pat  came  in  sight.  "  What  luck  ?  "  shouted  Lujer. 
"  I  saxo  a  fine  doe,"  replied  Rob.  "  You  don't  mean 
to  say  you  let  her  get  away  from  you  ?  "  "  Not  so 
easy,"  called  back  Rob,  "  to  bring  down  a  running 
deer."  But  Rob"'s  expression  was  not  that  of  a  boy 
[181] 


BOB     AND     HIS     GUN 

who  had  missed,  and  Lujer  hastened  up,  saying, 
"  You  can't  fool  me.     You  killed  that  deer."" 

Rob  was  warmly  congratulated  by  all,  and  the 
two  brothers  soon  had  the  carcass,  which  was  too 
heavy  for  one  of  them  to  carry,  swung  up  between 
two  young  trees,  to  stay  there  and  freeze,  until  some- 
one from  the  house  came  for  it  with  a  sled. 

Mr.  Warren  got  a  deer  on  the  following  day, 
and  the  next  day  proved  an  unlucky  one  for  both. 
Rob  was  assured  that  he  had  done  well  enough,  but 
the  gi'eat  object  of  his  ambition  was  a  big  buck  with 
horns,  and  Lujer,  who  had  taken  a  great  liking  to 
him,  was  very  anxious  to  see  that  ambition  grati- 
fied. "If  we  had  a  boat  on  Mosquito  Lake,"  he 
kept  saying,  "1  would  give  you  a  shot  at  the  biggest 
buck  in  these  woods.  Fve  put  him  up  four  times, 
and  he  always  makes  right  for  that  water."  But 
only  one  day  of  their  stay  remained. 

As  they  were  sitting  around  the  fire  the  last  even- 
ing but  one,  Lujer  said  to  his  father,  "  Do  you  think 
we  could  do  anything  with  the  old  scow  on  Mos- 
quito Lake?"  His  father  was  doubtful,  saying 
that  the  scow  had  not  been  used  since  the  summer 
before,  and  was  then  in  a  poor  condition.  After 
[  182  j 


IN     THE     CANADA     BUSH 

some  further  discussion,  Lujer  proposed  that  Pat 
take  Rob  and  Mr.  Warren  to  the  lake  the  next 
morning,  while  he  tried  to  start  the  big  buck  with 
the  hound.  If  the  boat  was  found  useless  they  could 
take  their  stands  where  Pat  should  decide,  with  a 
bare  hope  that  one  of  them  would  be  where  the  deer 
would  enter  the  water.  And  this  was  finally  agreed 
upon. 

The  morning  proved  cold  and  cloudy.  It  was  a 
three-mile  walk  to  the  lake,  and  Lujer  was  to  give 
them  plenty  of  time  to  station  themselves  before 
he  struck  out  into  the  woods.  The  lake  was  some 
two  miles  long,  naiTowing  in  places  to  500  yards. 
They  found  all  the  little  bays  along  its  shore  cov- 
ered with  thin  ice,  and  Pat  said  that  a  deer  \vould 
not  take  to  water  in  any  of  these.  The  boat  lay 
about  half-way  up  the  lake,  and  a  wreck  of  a  boat 
it  proved  to  be.  It  was  not  actually  unsafe,  but 
its  thole-pins  were  rotten,  and,  heavy  when  new,  it 
was  much  heavier  now  in  its  water-soaked  condition. 
Pat  declared  himself  at  a  loss  to  know  what  to  ad- 
vise, and  Rob  finally  said  that  he  would  make  a  sug- 
gestion in  his  own  behalf. 

About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  lower  shore 
r  183  1 


ROB     AND     HIS      GUN 

of  the  lake,  he  had  noticed  a  rocky  httle  island.  It 
was  not  more  than  a  hundred  feet  in  diameter, 
wooded  with  pine-trees,  and  rising  up  quite  abruptly. 
Rob  proposed  that  Pat  land  him  on  this  island, 
as  it  would  command  a  possible  shot  if  a  deer  took 
to  water  in  that  part  of  the  lake  which  was  not 
frozen  over,  while  Pat  and  his  cousin  took  their 
stand  near  the  boat,  with  the  idea  of  trying  to  use 
it  if  nothing  better  was  to  be  done.  All  voted  that 
this  was  at  least  sensible,  if  not  very  hopeful,  and 
this  plan  was  cairied  out. 

Rob  found  his  island  a  perfect  place  of  conceal- 
ment, and  he  soon  had  a  standing-place  cleared  of 
snow,  and  a  seat  picked  out  on  a  fallen  log,  and  was 
ready  for  a  long  wait,  if  that  was  necessary.  He  did 
put  in  a  long  hour,  getting  so  cold  meanwhile  that  he 
ventured  to  light  a  little  fire.  (Lujer  had  told  him 
that  a  deer  was  not  afi*aid  of  a  fire  in  the  woods.) 
Then  in  the  distance  came  the  now  familiar  voice  of 
the  old  hound.  It  seemed  far  away,  and  would  die 
down  entirely,  as  the  animal  ran  into  some  little  val- 
ley in  the  forest,  and  become  distinct  again  as  it  rose 
to  the  top  of  a  ridge.  There  was  no  doubt  that  it 
was  coming  nearer  the  lake.  At  first  Rob  was 
[184] 


IN     THE     CANADA     BUSH 

hopeful.  Then  the  direction  of  the  sound  changed, 
and  he  now  felt  sure  that  the  deer  would  enter  above 
where  his  cousin  was  stationed,  if  at  all. 

Presently  a  new  sound  caught  his  ear — the  sound 
of  oars.  Stepping  across  the  island  where  he  could 
command  a  good  view  of  the  main  body  of  water,  he 
could  distinguish  the  boat  being  propelled  toward 
him.  As  the  hound  was  still  giving  tongue,  he  was 
puzzled  at  this  move.  But  on  looking  closer  he  saw 
something  some  distance  ahead  of  the  boat  which  he 
at  first  took  to  be  a  little  bush.  But  the  bush 
moved  too.  Could  it  be  ?  Yes,  without  doubt.  It 
was  the  antlered  head  of  a  big  buck  ! 

The  animal  had  taken  to  the  water  far  ahead  of 
the  hound,  out  of  rifle  shot  of  Mr.  Warren,  and  he 
and  Pat  were  trying  to  approach  it  in  the  boat. 

With  a  good  boat  this  would  have  been  no  diffi- 
cult task,  and  Rob's  first  thought  was  that  he  would 
only  see  his  cousin  get  the  prize,  for  even  Mr.  War- 
ren, with  his  aversion  to  killing  deer  out  of  a  boat, 
would  not  have  let  this  buck  escape  him.  But  as 
the  pursuit  continued,  Rob  observed  that  the  boat 
did  not  gain  on  the  deer.  As  he  learned  afterward, 
the  thole-pins  were  so  rotten  that  Pat  dared  not  put 
[185] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

much  pressure  on  them  (he  and  Mr.  Warren  being 
both  men  of  good  weight),  and  all  they  could  do 
was  to  keep  the  deer  swimming  on,  in  the  hope  that 
it  would  pass  near  RoVs  island. 

When  Rob  found  that  he  was  likeiy  to  get  a  shot, 
he  nerved  himself  for  his  greatest  effort.  The  cover 
on  the  island  concealed  him  completely,  and  he  made 
up  his  mind  that  he  would  let  the  buck  come  so  near 
that  he  would  not  only  be  sure  to  kill  it,  but  would 
be  in  no  danger  of  knocking  off  any  part  of  its  fine 
antlers.  A  grand  sight  it  made  for  him,  as  the  ani- 
mal chose  its  course,  and  came  with  a  steady  swim 
into  close  view.  Rob  was  rather  surprised  to  find 
how  little  of  the  buck  was  visible  above  the  water, 
very  little  indeed  except  its  antlers  and  its  tail. 

Soon  it  was  Pafs  time  to  get  excited.  Seeing 
nothing  of  Rob  as  the  deer  approached  the  island, 
and  not  being  able  to  gauge  the  distance  well  from 
the  level  of  the  water,  he  made  up  his  mind  that 
Rob  did  not  see  the  deer  at  all,  and,  not  accepting 
Mr.  Warren's  assurances  to  the  contrary  (for  Mr. 
Warren  did  not  doubt  that  Rob  was  alive  to  the  situ- 
ation), he  stood  up  in  the  boat  and  cried,  "  O  Rob, 
why  don't  you  shoot  ?  Why  the  d — 1  don't  you 
[186] 


IN     THE    CANADA    BUSH 

shoot  ? ""  This  advice  rather  disconcerted  Rob.  Re- 
lying on  Pafs  knowledge  of  deer  in  general,  and  of 
this  lake  in  particular,  he  supposed  that  there  was 
danger  of  the  deer  changing  its  course  and  not  giv- 
ing him  so  good  a  shot  as  he  could  then  have.  The 
deer  was  now  about  a  hundred  yards  from  him,  and 
swimming  directly  toward  him,  so  that  the  mark 
presented  was  only  the  front  of  its  head.  Aiming 
very  carefully,  he  pressed  the  trigger,  and  saw  the 
ball  strike  the  water  less  than  an  inch  above  the  buck's 
ear.  This  was  not  so  bad  a  shot,  but  a  hundred 
such  shots  would  not  secure  him  the  buck. 

The  animal  now  swung  to  the  left,  toward  the 
shore,  and  then  made  directly  from  him.  It  was  his 
one  chance  now,  as  every  second  increased  its  dis- 
tance. Changing  his  position  a  little,  he  placed  one 
foot  on  a  fallen  log,  rested  his  elbow  on  his  knee, 
and  fired  at  the  water-line. 

With  the  crack  of  the  rifle  the  buck  apparently 
disappeared. 

Then  what  a  shout  went  up  from  that  boat !     Pat 

was  wild.     To  have  killed  the  deer  himself  would 

have  given  him  not  much  more  satisfaction.     He 

shouted  and  he  danced,  and  Mr.  Warren  told  him 

[187] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

that  if  he  did  not  become  quiet  he  would  have  a 
hole  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 

A  second  look  showed  Rob  that  the  deer  had  not 
sunk,  its  tail  marking  its  position.  That  tail  Pat 
soon  had  hold  of,  and  thus  was  the  buck  towed  up 
to  the  island,  whence,  after  Rob  had  got  aboard,  it 
was  towed  on  to  the  shore.  There  presently  Lujer 
joined  them,  to  enjoy  the  victory  and  to  tell  them 
how  he  had  done  a  good  part  of  the  running  of  the 
deer  himself,  when  the  discouraged  old  hound  showed 
a  disposition  to  go  home. 

So  ended  Rob''s  experience  in  the  Canada  bush. 
It  was  practical  roughing,  with  cold  and  hard  work, 
but  that  buck's  head  paid  for  everything. 


[  188  ] 


CHAPTER  XI 

WILD-GOOSE   SHOOTING    IN   DAKOTA 

ONE  of  Mr.  WaiTen"'s  schoolmates,  who  had 
taken  up  his  residence  in  Dakota,  had  written 
him  several  times,  giving  him  a  pressing  invitation 
to  make  a  visit  to  that  State,  and  see  what  sport  he 
could  offer  him.  He  told  of  the  vast  number  of 
wild  geese  and  ducks  that  passed  over  the  district  in 
the  migi-atory  season,  and  said  that  larger  game  could 
be  had  by  going  a  little  farther  west.  At  last  the 
invitation  was  accepted,  with  Rob  included  in  it,  and 
a  bright  October  morning  found  our  two  sportsmen 
on  a  train  on  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  due  in 
Bismarck  at  noon. 

When  they  had  retired  to  their  berths  the  evening 
before,  they  were  travelling  through  Minnesota.  On 
arising,  they  found  themselves  on  the  broad  prairies. 
This  part  of  the  trip  was  very  interesting  to  Rob, 
who  found  the  scenery,  while  monotonous,  attractive 
from  its  novelty.  On  either  side,  as  far  as  the  eye 
[  189  ] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

could  reach,  stretched  the  almost  level  prairie,  now 
a  dull  brown,  treeless,  and  apparently  devoid  of  life. 
It  was  hard  to  realize  how  recently  the  buffaloes  had 
roamed  over  the  same  ground  in  almost  countless 
numbers,  and  the  warlike  Sioux  had  disputed  the 
occupancy  of  the  land  with  every  white  comer.  The 
absence  of  trees  was  perhaps  the  most  remarkable 
feature  of  the  landscape  to  the  Eastern  visitor.  Not 
a  single  one  stood  out  on  the  prairie  as  a  landmark, 
and,  even  at  the  small  settlements  that  had  grown  up 
around  the  railroad  stations,  no  tree  was  to  be  seen. 
Here  and  there,  over  the  prairie,  a  "  shack,"  as  the 
first  log  cabin  of  the  settler  is  called,  could  be 
noted,  but  these  were  far  apart,  and  Rob  thought 
of  the  lonely  life  of  the  occupants. 

It  was  a  dry  year  in  Dakota,  but  in  many  a  de- 
pression where  the  land  was  rolling  were  little  bodies 
of  water,  and  from  most  of  these  wild  ducks  flew  up  at 
the  approach  of  the  train,  giving  Rob  a  hope  that 
game  would  not  disappoint  them.  He  watched  con- 
stantly from  his  window  in  the  hope  that  at  least  one 
buffalo  or  antelope  would  show  itself,  but  he  was  dis- 
appointed. How  complete  had  been  the  extermina- 
tion of  the  buffalo  he  learned  a  little  later,  when  he 
[190  J 


WILD-GOOSE    SHOOTING     IN     DAKOTA 

was  told  that  146,000  of  the  hides  had  been  shipped 
from  the  Bismarck  district  in  1881,  80,000  in  1882, 
only  223  in  1883,  and  not  a  hide  since.  For  the 
price  of  the  hides  the  noble  animal  had  been  practi- 
cally exterminated  ! 

Arriving  at  Bismarck  about  noon,  they  landed  on 
the  piazza  of  the  hotel  which  then  constituted  the 
depot  platform  (this  was  some  twenty  years  ago,  lie- 
fore  the  division  of  the  State),  where  Mr.  Wan-en's 
friend  gave  them  a  Western  gi-eeting.  This  friend, 
whose  name  was  Frank  Aileen,  was  a  jolly  man,  of 
rotund  proportions  and  a  laughing  eye,  whose  hope- 
fulness nothing  vanquished,  whose  stock  of  stories 
was  inexhaustible,  and  whose  Dakota  experiences 
were  of  unflagging  interest  to  Rob.  "  Come  right 
in  and  get  a  bite,"  said  he,  "  and  then  we  are  off. 
We  must  be  shooting  geese  before  sunset."  Rob  had 
gone  to  bed  pretty  tired  with  his  long  journey  from 
New  York  the  night  before,  and  had  supposed  that 
they  would  require  at  least  a  day  of  preparation  for 
the  trip  when  they  arrived ;  but  the  preparations 
had  all  been  made  in  advance.  The  meal  ended, 
they  went  to  their  room  to  don  their  shooting 
clothes,  and  then  stepped  into  a  light  two-seated 
[  191  J 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

wagon  and  started  back  in  the  direction  fi-om  which 
they  had  come.  Mr.  Aileen  explained  that  his 
outfit  was  waiting  for  them  at  a  station  ten  miles  to 
the  east,  from  which  they  would  make  their  actual 
start. 

Arriving  there,  Rob  saw  what  looked  to  him  like 
a  gypsy  outfit.  There  was  a  big  wagon,  to  which 
were  hitched  a  pair  of  mules,  and  which  Avas  piled 
high  with  such  necessary  articles  as  a  tent,  a  stove, 
boxes  of  provisions,  and,  on  top  of  all,  two  crates 
containing  half  a  dozen  hve  wild  geese,  the  use  of 
which  will  be  described  later.  Mr.  Aileen  explained 
to  Rob  that  it  was  necessary  to  carry  with  them 
everything  they  would  require,  as  they  would  not  only 
find  no  public-houses  of  entertainment,  but  would  be 
fortunate  if  they  camped  near  a  settler  who  would 
spare  them  a  few  dozen  eggs  and  some  butter,  even 
their  firewood  being  included  in  their  supplies.  When 
the  cavalcade  started,  it  was  led  by  the  hunters  in 
the  wagon  they  had  ridden  out  in,  followed  by  the 
mule  team,  and  all  accompanied  by  two  boys  on 
broncos,  one  of  whom  went  along  "  for  fun,"  and 
the  other,  named  Tim,  to  make  himself  generally 
useful.  One  seat  in  the  light  wagon  was  occupied 
[192] 


WILD-GOOSE     SHOOTING     IN     DAKOTA 

by  a  very  important  member  of  the  expedition,  Jo- 
seph, the  colored  cook,  and  with  the  mule  team  rode 
two  young  men  who  were  considered  "  old  resi- 
dents ■"  of  the  State  (they  had  lived  there  five  years), 
and  who  were  to  take  care  of  things  generally  and 
shoot  when  they  had  an  opportunity. 

Starting  due  south,  their  route  lay  over  the  prai- 
rie, which  was  there  somewhat  rolling,  the  road  being 
only  a  black  streak  ahead  of  them,  where  settlers'* 
wagons  had  worn  a  path  through  the  sod  and  into 
the  rich  soil.  Not  a  traveller  met  them,  and,  as 
Mr.  Aileen  remarked,  if  they  did  find  birds,  they 
would  have  the  shooting  to  themselves.  The  only 
form  of  life  they  saw  on  the  ground  was  one  badger, 
sitting  by  its  hole.  Toward  evening  many  flocks  of 
geese  appeared  in  the  distance. 

It  was  about  sunset  when  Sam,  whom  they  hon- 
ored with  the  title  of  "  head  guide,"  announced  that 
they  had  reached  their  camping-place.  To  Rob  he 
explained  that  they  had  been  travelling  toward  the 
Missouri  River,  and  aiming  for  a  district  where  there 
were  big  wheat-stubbles.  Goose-shooting  in  Dakota 
was  conducted  on  an  entirely  different  principle  from 
that  adopted  on  the  coast.  The  birds  here  passed 
[193] 


ROB     AN  D     HIS     GUN 

the  night  and  the  middle  of  the  day  along  the  river, 
where  they  could  drink,  bathe,  and  obtain  gravel  for 
their  crops.  At  sunrise  and  in  the  afternoon  they 
directed  their  flight  to  the  big  wheat-fields,  where 
they  fed  on  the  grain  that  was  stacked,  or  that  had 
dropped  on  the  ground  as  it  was  being  harvested. 
In  the  spring  the  geese  fed  on  the  young  grain,  and 
the  farmers  thought  them  a  nuisance,  and  were  glad 
to  have  hunters  shoot  them  and  scare  them  away. 
As  Rob  looked  over  the  flat  prairie  he  wondered  how 
a  hunter  was  to  conceal  himself  from  the  geese,  but 
he  repressed  his  desire  to  ask  any  more  questions. 

There  was  a  settler's  shack  near  by,  and  Mr.  Aileen 
called  on  the  owner  to  ask  if  there  was  a  place  under 
cover  where  any  of  the  party  could  sleep.  He  was 
told  that  the  settler's  family  occupied  all  the  space 
in  their  one  room,  but  that  they  were  welcome  to  lie 
in  the  stable.  The  stable — a  thatch-covered  hovel — 
proved  entirely  untempting,  and  they  decided  to 
camp  in  true  Western  style,  under  the  stars.  Rob 
was  delighted  with  this  arrangement,  as  it  seemed  to 
make  him  an  actual  pioneer.  While  Joseph  was  set- 
ting up  his  stove  and  getting  supper,  the  others 
partly  unloaded  the  wagon  and  got  things  ready  for 
[  194] 


WILD-GOOSE     SHOOTING     IN     DAKOTA 

the  night.  It  was  a  bright,  starlight  night,  cool 
but  not  cold,  and,  as  they  thought  that  their  stay 
where  they  were  might  be  a  short  one,  the  tent  was 
not  pitched.  Some  hay  from  a  nearby  stack  was 
spread  on  the  sod  for  a  mattress,  the  wagon-tongue 
was  raised  to  a  horizontal  position,  and  on  it  a  blanket 
was  hung  to  protect  them  from  the  wind  that  is  al- 
ways on  the  move  over  the  prairies,  and  some  blank- 
ets to  spread  over  them  completed  their  sleeping 
ari'angements. 

Joseph  gave  them  ham  and  eggs  for  supper,  and 
they  soon  after  discovered  one  of  the  inconveniences 
of  prairie  life  in  Dakota.  The  settler  told  them 
that  the  water  near  his  shack  was  too  strong  of  alkali 
to  be  drinkable,  and  Tim,  the  "  useful  boy,"  was  sent 
on  his  pony  to  a  spring  half  a  mile  distant,  with  a 
jug,  to  obtain  a  better  supply.  Thus  did  Rob  learn 
at  the  start  of  one  of  the  privations  that  some  set- 
tlers in  our  new  country  have  to  endure ;  but  this, 
unlike  many  others,  could  be  remedied.  The  even- 
ing was  spent  listening  to  stories  of  Western  experi- 
ence, told  by  Mr.  Aileen  and  the  two  "  old  settlers," 
and  at  nine  o'clock  they  were  all  warned  to  go  sleep, 
as  they  must  be  up  before  sunrise  to  try  for  geese. 
[  195  ] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

The  novelty  of  his  .situation  might  have  kept  Rob 
long  from  slumber  even  if  there  had  been  no  other 
cause.  In  the  first  place,  a  prairie  sod,  although  it 
has  some  hay  on  it,  is  not  an  easy  bed  to  a  "  tender- 
foot," and,  while  the  two  guides  scorned  even  the 
luxury  of  hay,  and  slumbered  at  once,  simply  rolled 
up  in  their  blankets,  Rob,  as  he  described  it,  "  bored 
through  ■"  his  hay  in  trying  to  get  an  easy  position, 
and  found  the  sod  very  hard.  Off  to  the  east  the 
horizon  was  aglow  with  a  distant  prairie  fire,  and  he 
thought  of  the  stories  he  had  read  of  escapes  fi'om 
such  conflagrations,  and  wondered  if  this  fire  might 
reach  them.  Then  he  became  interested  in  listening 
to  an  owl  that  kept  up  a  hooting.  Finally,  when 
he  thought  he  was  going  to  sleep  in  earnest,  Mr. 
Aileen  put  m  operation  a  snoring-machine  which 
Rob  was  sure  had  never  been  equalled  in  power  and 
variety.  Beginning  with  some  long-drawn  whiffs,  it 
changed  to  a  series  of  prolonged  groans,  which  always 
ended  in  a  snort  that  partly  aroused  the  sleeper,  as  if 
the  limit  of  a  safety-valve  had  been  reached  and  the 
surplus  steam  had  finally  escaped.  Then,  without 
any  demand  for  an  encore,  the  programme  was  re- 
peated. This  concert  lasted  about  half  an  hour,  dis- 
[196] 


WILD-GOOSE     SHOOTING     IN     DAKOTA 

turbed  by  fi-equent  kickings  and  pokings  by  Mr. 
Warren,  with  only  temporary  effect,  after  which  it 
ceased,  and  then  all  the  camp  became  quiet. 

Rob  was  pulled  out  of  bed,  while  it  was  still  dark, 
by  Tim,  who  announced  breakfast,  for  which  they 
were  ready  as  soon  as  they  had  washed  their  faces 
and  hands  in  some  alkali  water,  which  made  their 
eyes  and  lips  smart ;  there  was  no  dressing  to  do,  as 
they  had  slept  in  their  clothes.  Their  late  arrival  the 
night  before  had  prevented  any  attempt  at  shooting 
during  the  evening,  and  Mr.  Aileen  was  anxious  to 
begin  their  sport  at  once.  He  decided  that  he  would 
take  Rob  with  him  for  the  morning  attempt,  and 
leave  Mr.  Wari'en  to  the  guidance  of  Sam. 

Breakfast  was  soon  eaten,  and  off  Rob  and  his 
companion  started,  in  the  dark.  Both  carried  ten- 
gauge  guns,  and  an  abundance  of  shells  in  canvas 
bags,  and  Rob  was  also  loaded  with  a  pick,  while  his 
companion  carried  a  shovel.  Here  was  occasion  for 
another  question,  but  Rob  restrained  himself.  A 
walk  of  a  little  more  than  half  a  mile  brought  them 
to  what  Mr.  Aileen  said  looked  like  a  promising 
wheat-stubble,  and  he  left  Rob  with  the  guns  while 
he  did  a  little  prospecting.  On  his  return  he  said, 
\  197  1 


11  OB     AND     HIS     GUN 

"  We're  in  luck.  I  have  found  some  old  pits  that 
will  save  us  a  lot  of  digging." 

"  ril  have  to  ask  what  a  pit  is  for,"  said  Rob. 

"  O,  I  forgot  that  prairie  shooting  is  new  to  you. 
Your  cousin  told  me  you  had  made  a  good  record  on 
the  bay,  and  I  did  not  think  to  explain  why  we 
brought  with  us  a  pick  and  shovel.  As  you  see,  the 
prairie  is  entirely  without  cover,  and  our  geese  are 
naturally  as  wild  as  are  wild  geese  elsewhere.  So 
we  have  to  devise  some  means  of  getting  near  enough 
to  them  to  shoot.  Crawling  up  to  them  on  a  tree- 
less prairie  would  not  do,  and  the  cover  of  an  occa- 
sional grain-stack  would  give  but  a  few  shots.  Ac- 
cordingly we  have  devised  the  plan  of  digging  pits 
in  the  grain-stubble  and  hiding  in  them.  We  dig  a 
pit  about  hip  deep,  and  of  circumference  sufficient  to 
allow  a  man  to  squat  down  in  it.  One  of  these  T- 
shaped  stools  suffices  as  a  seat,  and,  with  our  decoys 
in  front  of  us,  and  our  eyes  on  the  level  of  the 
gi'ound,  we  are  out  of  sight  of  the  birds  until  they 
are  within  gunshot." 

"  But  I  do  not  see  any  decoys,"  said  Rob. 

"  You  are  looking  for  the  big  decoys  they  use  on 
the  bay.  We  get  along  with  something  less  bulky." 
[198] 


WILD-GOOSE     SHOOTING     IN     DAKOTA 

Undoing  a  bag,  he  brought  out  a  dozen  flat  decoys 
of  tin,  which,  he  explained,  when  set  so  that  the 
flying  birds  would  get  a  side  view  of  them,  answered 
very  well,  especially  if  there  was  a  big  flight.  "  In 
the  crates  you  saw  on  the  big  wagon,"  he  added, 
"  are  our  live  decoys.  These  belong  to  Sam  and  his 
brother.  They  have  collected  them  by  saving  crip- 
pled birds  and  keeping  their  ^v^ngs  clipped.  Hop- 
pled to  a  stake  on  the  ground,  the  live  birds  will 
call  to  the  flying  ones,  and  in  this  way  they  are  a 
big  help,  as  an  addition  to  the  tin  decoys.  I  did 
not  try  to  bring  any  of  them  with  us  this  morning, 
as  this  is  a  sort  of  exploration  hunt.  If  we 
find  the  geese  are  flying  well  over  this  course,  we 
shall  make  better  preparations  for  the  afternoon 
shoot." 

They  had  now  come  to  the  place  where  Mr.  Aileen 
had  discovered  the  old  pits.  A  little  cleaning  out 
of  the  loose  earth  made  them  serviceable,  and  Rob 
was  soon  ensconced  in  one  of  them.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  it  must  be  a  very  foolish  goose  that  would 
mistake  one  of  the  tin  decoys  for  a  real  goose,  but 
Mr.  Aileen  told  him  he  must  remember  that  the 
goose  was  not  credited  with  a  large  supply  of  brains, 
\  199  1 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

and  that  a  hungry  goose  seemed  to  pay  attention 
only  to  its  stomach. 

As  soon  as  it  was  daylight  occasional  flocks  of  the 
birds  were  seen  winging  their  flight  from  the  direc- 
tion of  the  river,  but  the  course  of  most  of  them  was 
far  to  the  west  of  the  place  where  the  two  gunners 
were  watching.  While  the  wild  goose  most  abundant 
on  the  Atlantic  coast  is  the  large  Canada  goose,  the 
variety  shot  in  the  largest  numbers  on  the  north- 
western prairies  is  the  Hutchinsii,  a  smaller  bird  with 
the  same  plumage.  In  the  spring  the  snow  goose, 
of  white  plumage,  is  seen  in  large  flocks,  as  it  is  also 
in  California.  All  the  birds  which  oui-  sportsmen 
got  were  of  the  smaller  Canada  variety. 

It  was  some  time  after  sunrise  before  the  first 
goose  came  to  them.  This  was  a  single  bird,  which 
was  ready  for  any  kind  of  company,  and  which  ac- 
cordingly took  a  close  look  at  the  tin  stools.  Rob 
was  told  that  he  could  have  the  shot,  and  he 
tumbled  it  to  the  ground  without  difficulty.  They 
killed  two  more  in  the  course  of  an  hour,  and  then 
Mr.  Aileen  decided  that  they  were  out  of  the  line 
of  flight,  and  they  took  up  their  stools  and  returned 
to  the  camping-place.  Sam  and  Mr.  Warren  had 
[  200  ] 


WILD-GOOSE     SHOOTING     IN     DAKOTA 

already  an-ived  there,  with  a  single  goose,  and  the 
wagon  was  soon  ready  for  the  move. 

They  travelled  southeastward  for  about  six  miles, 
when  they  came  to  a  district  where  there  was  abun- 
dant wheat-stubble,  and  moreover  a  deserted  shack, 
of  which  they  took  possession.  Mr.  Aileen  explained 
that  on  account  of  drought  the  wheat  harvest  had 
been  almost  a  failure  that  year,  and  the  settlers  had 
generally  moved  to  some  place  on  the  railroad, 
where  they  could  make  a  living  during  the  win- 
ter. This  shack  was  a  log  cabin,  with  a  fireplace 
and  a  door,  and  one  window  without  glass.  But 
it  was  well  roofed  and  large  enough  to  accommo- 
date their  whole  party.  Joseph  soon  had  his  stove 
connected  with  the  chimney,  and,  while  he  pre- 
pared dinner,  the  others  went  out  to  look  over  the 
ground. 

At  dinner  Sam  proposed  that  he  and  Rob  match 
themselves  against  the  two  older  sportsmen  for  the 
afternoon,  and  this  was  agreed  to.  Sam  soon  had 
the  horses  hitched  to  the  lighter  wagon,  and  with 
guns,  pick,  spade,  and  three  of  the  live  decoys  in  it, 
and  one  of  the  boys  to  bring  back  the  team,  off 
they  started.  Sam  selected  as  their  stopping- place 
f  201  1 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

the  middle  of  a  big  wheat-field,  where  the  ground 
was  a  little  elevated,  so  that  they  could  have  a  good 
view  of  the  distant  prairie,  and  any  geese  that  came 
their  way  could  have  a  good  view  of  their  stools. 
The  prairie  soil  is  soft,  almost  like  a  black  mould, 
and  it  did  not  take  the  two  long  to  get  two  pits 
dug  to  Sam's  satisfaction,  he  using  the  pick  and 
Rob  throwing  out  the  loose  earth.  Then  Sam  tied 
the  three  live  decoys  to  stakes  where  he  wanted 
them,  placed  some  tin  ones  to  look  as  natural  as 
possible,  and  chey  got  into  the  pits  and  squatted 
down  on  the  stools,  Sam,  who  never  neglected  any 
precaution,  had  a  hat  for  himself  and  one  for  Rob, 
on  top  of  which  were  fastened  the  neck  and  head 
of  a  wild  goose,  so  that  when  they  peered  above 
the  rim  of  the  pit  their  heads  looked  like  two  geese 
moving  around.  The  only  trouble  Rob  had  with 
his  hat  was  that  it  was  top  heavy,  and  had  an  incli- 
nation to  fall  over  his  eyes  when  his  gun  went  off. 

Sam  had  made  no  mistake  in  selecting  his  shoot- 
ing-gi"ound.  By  three  o'clock  geese  were  to  be  seen 
in  large  numbers  taking  their  flight  from  the  direc- 
tion of  the  river,  and  soon  a  good-sized  bunch  came 
within  sight  of  their  decoys.  Their  live  birds  at 
[  202  ] 


WILD-GOOSE    SHOOTING     IN     DAKOTA 

once  began  to  honk,  and  the  flock  rephed  and, 
setting  their  wings,  came  stringing  up  to  thera. 
"  Take  the  head  birds,"  said  Sam,  and  their  four 
bairels  sounded.  Three  birds  struck  the  ground 
with  a  thud  (Sam  declared  that  two  of  them  were 
Rob's),  and  the  rest  went  on.  Sam  leaped  out  of 
his  pit,  and  kicked  some  of  the  black  earth  over  the 
dead  birds  lest  they  frighten  any  new-comers,  and 
was  then  hidden  again  and  ready  for  some  more. 
The  next  bunch  were  suspicious  and  refused  to  ac- 
cept the  decoys'  invitation  to  make  them  a  call,  but 
a  larger  flock  soon  followed,  and  these  came  in 
nicely.  It  was  indeed  exciting  to  see  the  big  birds 
approaching  so  steadily,  in  a  long  line,  apparently 
filling  the  air  in  front  of  the  shooters.  It  was 
somewhat  easier  to  judge  their  distance  than  Rob 
had  first  found  it  on  the  water,  but  he  always  waited 
for  Sam  to  give  the  word  to  shoot.  They  stopped 
four  geese  out  of  this  flock,  and  Sam  declared  that 
they  had  the  older  men  beaten  "  for  sure."  There 
was  much  fi-iendly  rivalry  between  him  and  Mr. 
Aileen,  and  he  was  determined  not  to  come  out  sec- 
ond best  on  this  trip. 

Until  sunset  there  was  rarely  a  space  of  fifteen 
[  203  ] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

minutes  in  which  flying  geese  were  not  in  sight. 
Most  of  the  flocks  of  course  passed  out  of  gunshot 
— had  they  not  done  so  it  would  have  required  a 
caisson  to  lieep  them  in  ammunition — but  they  got 
shot  after  shot,  and  there  were  not  too  many  misses. 
Rob  became  very  cool  in  waiting  for  the  birds,  and 
often  tried  to  bring  down  two  with  one  barrel,  but 
they  always  strung  out  in  line,  after  the  manner  of 
their  kind,  and  he  did  not  once  succeed.  At  dusk 
Sam  started  for  the  team  to  carry  in  their  game, 
leaving  Rob  to  get  any  late-comers  that  he  might 
see.  He  had  one  flock  all  to  himself,  and  downed 
two  of  them,  and  these  brought  their  score  up  to 
twenty-nine  birds.  They  almost  filled  the  wagon- 
body  ;  Mr.  Warren  and  his  companion  had  secured 
only  eighteen.  They  did  include  in  their  bag  a 
sand-hill  crane,  which  Mr.  Aileen  contended  should 
count  for  five  geese,  but  Sam  disallowed  the  claim. 

Joseph  gave  them  a  great  dinner  that  night,  with 
roast  goose  as  the  centrepiece.  Rob  thought  that 
he  had  never  tasted  anything  more  delicious  than 
the  breast  of  a  young  goose,  even  if  it  lacked  the 
accompaniment  of  jelly  and  dressing  that  would 
have  been  provided  at  home.  The  evening  was 
[  204  ] 


WILD-GOOSE     SHOOTING     IN     DAKOTA 

fine,  and  they  gathered  on  the  lee  side  of  the 
shack,  where  the  elders  smoked  and  all  listened  to 
stories  of  hunting  experiences.  Mr.  Aileen  told  of 
a  bear-hunt  he  had  indulged  in,  the  first  year  he 
went  West ;  how  he  had  been  stationed  on  the  bor- 
der of  a  thicket,  as  the  most  likely  place  for  the 
bear  to  come  out  (any  less  likely  place  would  have 
suited  him  much  better)  ;  how  the  bear — a  big  cin- 
namon— did  come  out  where  it  was  expected  to,  not 
more  than  seventy-five  yards  from  where  he  was  sit- 
ting, frightening  his  pony  so  that  it  ran  away,  leav- 
ing him  to  engage  with  the  bear  on  foot,  and  with 
not  a  tree  within  sight  as  a  place  of  refuge. 

"  When  I  started  out,"  said  he,  "  I  had  no  doubt 
that  the  rifle  I  carried  could  despatch  a  bear  of 
any  size  within  two  hundred  yards ;  but  when 
that  big  bear — it  looked  to  me  bigger  than  a  steer 
— came  out  of  the  bushes,  my  weapon  felt  like  a 
popgun  in  my  hands.  I  let  that  bear  sit  up  and 
look  at  my  fleeing  horse,  and  at  me,  too,  if  I  came 
within  its  range  of  vision,  and  I  did  not  move  a 
muscle.  Shoot  ?  No,  sir.  That  bear  had  given 
me  no  intimation  that  it  liked  to  be  made  a  target 
of,  and  I  did  not  propose  to  cross  its  feelings  until 
[  205  ] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

hostilities  became  necessary.  After  completing  its 
observation,  it  broke  off  and  ate  a  few  branches  of 
beiTies  and  then  it  disappeared  in  the  thicket  again. 
I  had  saved  my  life.  Now  it  was  necessary  to  save 
my  reputation.  Going  to  the  place  where  the  bear 
had  sat  up,  I  carefully  obliterated  its  tracks  outside 
the  thicket  with  a  brush  of  berry  stalks,  and  then 
resumed  my  vigil.  Presently  out  came  the  two  old 
hunters  who  had  been  beating  the  thicket.  '  See 
the  bear  ? '  'I  heard  something  in  the  edge  of  the 
thicket,  and  my  horse  ran  away.'  They  examined 
the  thicket  where  the  bear  had  disappeared,  saw 
the  tracks  leading  up  to  the  edge  opposite  me  and 
then  turning  off,  and  inquired  if  I  had  sat  all  the 
time  where  I  had  been  placed.  Then  they  grasped 
my  hand  and  declared  me  '  a  brave  man '  to  be 
willing  to  face  a  cinnamon  on  foot,  and  without  a 
place  of  refuge.  Unwilling  to  destroy  so  pleasant 
a  delusion,  I  said  no  more." 

At  turning-in  time,  hay  from  a  nearby  stack  was 
carried  into  the  shack,  and  a  good  thick  bed  made 
for  all  who  wanted  it.  Mr.  Wan-en  then  directed 
the  boys  to  close  the  window  and  the  door  with 
some  boards  and  blankets.  "  Close  the  window  and 
[  206] 


WILD-GOOSE     SHOOTING     IN     DAK*.  TA 

the  door  ? "  said  Mr.  Aileen.     "  Conscience,  man,  rve 
want  air,  not  heat." 

"Frank,"  rephed  Mr.  Warren,  "did  you  note 
how  few  birds  we  saw  this  morning  ? "  Frank  had 
noted.  "  And  do  you  know  how  to  account  for  their 
scarcity  ? "  "  Only  that  we  were  not  on  the  line  of 
flight."  "  No,  my  friend  ;  tliey  were  on  the  line  of 
sound.  The  goose  is  not  hatched  that  will  fly 
where  the  sound  of  yoiu*  nose,  when  one  of  your 
night-concerts  is  under  way,  can  reach.  To-night 
we  shall  bottle  up  that  sound,  and  to-morrow  we 
shall  kill  more  geese." 

All  slept  later  the  next  morning,  and  Rob,  who 
was  among  the  earliest  risers,  slipped  away  to  an 
old  pit  he  had  noticed  the  afternoon  before,  while 
Joseph  was  getting  breakfast,  and  had  the  luck  to 
see  a  fine  flock  of  geese  light  within  a  hundred  yards 
of  him  and  feed.  He  watched  them  with  interest 
for  some  time,  and  at  last,  when  he  heard  himself 
called  to  breakfast,  threw  a  stone  into  the  flock  and 
so  flushed  them.  They  circled  around,  imwilling  to 
leave  their  breakfast  half-eaten,  and  then  flew 
directly  over  three  decoys  he  had  put  out,  and  he 
killed  two  of  them. 

[  207  ] 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

As  the  morning  flight  did  not  seem  to  be  heavy 
— they  could  see  in  all  directions  from  the  shack — 
Mr.  Warren  proposed  to  go  with  Rob  to  a  tree- 
claim  near  by  and  show  him  some  grouse.  Mr. 
Aileen  had  explained  to  them  that  what  were  called 
prairie-chickens  in  Dakota  differed  from  the  more 
common  prairie-chickens  of  Iowa  and  other  of  the 
States  farther  east,  being  a  somewhat  heavier  bird, 
but  similar  in  plumage.  The  prairie-chicken  is  the 
pinnated  grouse  {Tympanuchus  cupidd),  while  the 
common  bird  of  the  North  Dakota  prairies  is  the 
sharp  tailgrouse  {Pedicecetes  phaManellus). 

Rob  had  a  question  to  ask  as  they  walked  along  : 
"  What  was  a  tree-claim  ? ""  He  was  told  that, 
some  years  before.  Congress,  in  order  to  induce  the 
new  settlers  to  attempt  forest  culture,  passed  a  law 
granting  title  to  government  land  in  one  way  as 
follows  :  The  settler  could  lay  claim  to  a  tract  of 
160  acres  by  "  timber-culture  entry."  This  done, 
he  was  required  to  break  up  the  sod  on  five  acres  of 
this  land  the  first  year.  The  next  year  he  must  seed 
these  five  acres  and  break  up  five  more.  The  third 
year  he  must  plant  the  five  acres  fii-st  seeded  with 
slips,  or  seeds  that  would  produce  trees,  and  go  on 
[  208  ] 


WILD-GOOSE     SHOOTING     IN     DAKOTA 

in  this  way  until  the  whole  tract  was  tree  planted. 
It  may  be  explained  that  this  system  did  not  prove 
satisfactory,  and  the  tree-culture  act  was  repealed 
some  years  ago. 

A  half-hom-'s  walk  brought  them  to  one  of  these 
tree-claims.  To  Rob  it  looked  like  a  big  piece  of 
land  brushed  for  peas.  The  claimant  had  gone  to 
the  Missom-i  River  bottom  and  secured  small  growths 
of  cotton-wood,  and  set  these  out  at  proper  dis- 
tances. The  "  forest "  was  still  young,  but  many  of 
the  slips  were  dead,  and  there  seemed  a  poor  chance 
of  maturing  any  of  them  on  land  where  it  was  in 
manv  years  too  dry  to  grow  wheat.  But  the  grouse 
took  naturally  to  this  kind  of  cover,  and  it  was 
much  easier  to  look  for  them  in  such  a  place  than 
to  try  to  flush  them  on  the  wide  extent  of  prairie, 
where  the  grass  was  generally  thin,  and  a  dog  (they 
had  no  dogs  with  them)  might  run  his  legs  off  be- 
fore finding  game. 

They  had  advanced  but  a  short  distance  in  the 
claim,  walking  rather  far  apart  in  order  to  beat  it 
as  well  as  possible,  when  Rob  flushed  a  grouse.  It 
got  up  with  heavy  wing,  giving  out  a  harsh  sort  of 
cackle,  and  flew  tov>ard  the  open  prairie.  Rob 
[  209  1 


ROB     AND     HIS     GUN 

kept  his  gun  levelled  at  it  so  long  that  his  cousin 
called  out,  "  Why  don't  you  shoot  ?  "  and  then  he 
fired  and  downed  the  bird.  "  It  flew  so  easily," 
Rob  explained,  "  that  I  wanted  to  take  time  to  get 
a  good  look  at  it.  I  don't  see  how  a  man  who  can 
kill  our  ruffed  grouse  in  the  woods  can  find  any 
excuse  for  missing  these  birds  in  the  open."  Mr. 
Warren  agreed  with  him,  and  he  said  that  on  this 
account  the  prairie-chickens  of  the  more  Eastern 
States  were  almost  exterminated,  and  the  strictest 
laws  were  being  enacted  for  their  protection. 

One  more  grouse  was  flushed  in  the  tree-claim, 
which  Mr.  Warren  killed.  On  a  subsequent  day, 
as  they  were  walking  ahead  of  the  wagons,  they  saw 
six  sitting  on  a  haystack  near  a  deserted  shack,  and 
got  four-  of  them  by  marking  where  they  lighted  in 
a  piece  of  uncut  corn. 

Their  stay  on  the  prairie  lasted  a  week,  with  some 
days  that  gave  them  big  bags  of  geese  and  some 
that  w^ere  disappointing.  It  is  not  necessary  to 
count  up  the  total  number  killed.  But  they  did  not 
kill  simply  for  the  sake  of  killing.  A  wagon  that 
came  out  from  Bismarck  went  back  loaded  with  geese 
for  their  friends  and  to  be  put  on  ice,  and  more 
[  210  ] 


WILD-GOOSE     SHOOTING     IN     DAKOTA 

than  one  of  the  few  settlers  whose  shacks  were  occu- 
pied received  presents  of  birds  as  they  di-ove  along. 
There  was  much  discussion  of  an  expedition  to  the 
Northwest  in  search  of  deer  and  bear,  but  all  accounts 
represented  the  country  as  dried  up,  and  that  sport 
was  deferred  to  another  year.  The  drought  also 
cheated  them  of  their  expected  duck-shooting,  as 
all  the  big  sloughs  were  now  mere  beds  of  alkali. 
They  set  out  on  their  return  to  the  East  therefore 
with  only  geese  to  their  score,  but  with  recollections 
of  a  novel  experience,  and  with  promises  of  a  much 
greater  variety  of  sport  if  they  would  repeat  the 
visit  in  a  wet  year. 


[2111 


ivi31i?9?9 


